Sarah's Report
by Doctor Burrito
Summary: Not your average 14th Cycle Fic, this is the conclusion to the Reporter's Saga. Every major player in the battle to determine the fate of World A is now gathered in World B for one last fight. Cosmos' new heroes set out to stop Chaos' new "children".
1. Prologue Old Guard

_**LOCATION: EDGE OF MADNESS, NORTH EASTERN CONTINENT, WORLD B.**_

_**OCCASION: ONE DAY BEFORE THE FINAL CYCLE**_

"How much do you remember?" The Hero asked.

There were ten of them, standing in the rubble of Chaos' throne, atop a burning island, floating above the rest of World B. Far below them was an ocean, but the island was so vast that none could see it. It seemed to stretch on forever. Not a one of them could spy its edge among the ruins of the God of Discord's palace.

The ten were, in order, the Hero, dressed in red armor with red hair; the Liegeman, armed to the teeth, but with a kind voice; the Youth, armored in blue and purple; the Knight, gentle in his touch, but fierce in blows; the Wanderer, who did not seem wholly concerned by the topic; the Enchantress, with long green hair and a bright red dress; the Soldier, who carried a heavy sword; the Lion, so called for the mane on his jacket and the proud expression on his face; the Thief with his long tail, cunning fingers and sly look; and the Athlete, who could not stand still.

"Bits and pieces," the Enchantress said, running a hand through her hair nervously, "but I can't make sense of it. I remember being married, but I also remember being alone. I remember someone named Vaan, but sometimes I think his name is Locke."

"The dream is conflicting with your real memories," The Hero said. "Vaan was one of our number once."

"I remember him, too!" The Youth said, "But I don't remember what happened to him."

"I remember being betrayed," The Knight muttered, "I remember Kain, and that he stabbed me in the back. Again. How many times have I forgiven him, and still he betrays me?"

"I remember asking Cosmos for help," The Soldier mused, "I don't seem to remember getting it."

"This is what you're going to have to deal with," The Hero explained, "We're waking up from a deep sleep, and the dreams there will seem real to us. Someone didn't want us to wake up, and doesn't want us to go home."

"Let's get this out of the way first, then," The Wanderer said, "Waking up and going home are the better choices?"

"Of course they are," the Knight blurted. The others stared at him, waiting for a response, and at last he, feeling sheepish, said, "I think I had a family back home. I don't want to just dream about love, I want to live it."

"There's a corny answer if ever I heard one," teased the Lion, "Are we going to fight for something so unbelievably cheesy? We sound like characters from a children's story."

"What if the real world hurts more than the dream one?" the Soldier asked. "I remember that something there made me very sad."

"Then face that pain like a man," the Liegeman said, "and go past it. We can't grow if we don't feel pain. I'd sooner live a life of suffering and strife knowing that my sacrifices were real than live in a bliss I knew was false."

"Right," the Knight chimed in, "I want what's real, even if it is bitter. False beauty isn't for me."

"I remember," the Enchantress began, "I remember something you said." The Soldier looked at her in confusion as she spoke, "Something about a world full of flowers. About how we'd make that our dream, even if we couldn't remember our own. So let's keep that our dream! If the real world hurts, and is hard to bear, we'll just plant flowers over our pain and keep going!"

"What rose has no thorns, anyway?" The Liegeman asked.

"Then it's settled," the Youth declared, "We all want to go home, and live in the real world, even if it means we won't see each other again."

"We'll always see each other," the Athlete said softly, "whenever we look at the flowers."

"I'm glad you think so," the Hero said at last. "Because ours is a strange path now. Someone wanted us to stay asleep, and we have to find that person and stop them from sending us back. But there's more to this fight than that. We have Chaos to deal with, and the ones who started this war in the first place, and more. Listen well, friends; we have to organize and act swiftly. There's still much I have to share with you. You need to know about a man called The Scholar and something called Omega."

"What about Cosmos?" The Youth asked.

The others turned to look at the Hero, waiting for his word. Cosmos had been the banner to which they'd rallied before. She had been their Goddess of Hope. More than that, all of them had seen how strongly he'd felt for Her. What was their leader's word on the woman who had brought their team together?

"Cosmos, too, will answer for Her wrongs. Gods have mercy on Her, for I do not know if I still can."


	2. Chapter 1 Harmony's Call

_**LOCATION: ORDER'S SANCTUARY, CORNERIAN COAST, WORLD B.**_

_**OCCASION: DAY 1, MORNING**_

There were eight of them, all told. Seven standing, and one seated. They were gathered together in what was called Order's Sanctuary. It was the only safe place in the world. A calm, shallow pool of white atop a tower rising from the sea. In the middle of the pool was a white throne, and atop it sat the one.

She was a beautiful woman, with shapely breasts and a shapely bottom. Her legs were like dancers', her body without fat. Her stomach was flat, her fingers long, and her hair the color of corn, just beginning to ripen. Her face was like a portrait, her eyes bluer than the sea far below, her lips full, skin smooth, and nose perfectly shaped.

She wore a white dress, open in the back, that ran down to the knuckles of her feet. It left only enough exposed to display she was barefoot, and undoubtedly bare beneath. In her hair was a golden tiara, and from it what appear to be a bridal veil, that extended downward to the small of her back. Indeed, she looked very much like a bride.

When she spoke, her voice was serene, though somewhat melancholy. She said, "I need you. I cannot hope to fight Chaos alone. You must gather the Crystals and restore Harmony to our worlds."

One of the seven, a young man in green and white armor with neck-length blonde hair stepped forward. "Goddess Cosmos," he began, "Why has Chaos declared war on our homes? What have we done to provoke Him?"

"Chaos is the God of Discord," Cosmos answered, "He will not rest until all worlds have fallen to His will."

"This doesn't sound like my problem," said a man in a black cape. He was wearing shades and jeans, and had a forearm encased in metal.

"How is the imminent destruction of your home _not_ your problem?" Snarled a woman with feline ears and a tail. "It's seven of us against Him. Everybody I know is at risk! I don't want your apathy costing them their lives!"

"How many people _do_ you know?" The man in black replied. "I don't remember anything before waking up here. Why should I fight for a world I know nothing about?"

"I-," the cat woman stopped a moment, her ears twitching as she cast her slit eyes downward. "That's odd. I know I knew someone, but I can't remember them anymore."

"Is that going to be a recurring problem?" the woman beside her in ripped up jeans asked. "I can't remember anything, either."

"Hey, now that you mention it," the gray haired boy said, "I don't, either. I mean, this can't just be a coincidence, can it?"

"Why don't we ask our resident Goddess?" Responded the man with a crystal in his cheek. "I should think she'd know."

"Chaos' power is great," Cosmos said, "Your memories of home are His already. If you cannot stop Him, He will take more than that from you."

"Then it's settled!" exclaimed a man in blue armor, "We've got to stop Chaos and get our memories back."

"I'm still not interested."

"Seriously?" The crystal-cheeked man exclaimed, "I mean _really._ This brooding thing isn't cool, man! I mean, I get it, you wear shades, dress in black, and act stoic to be a badass, but _come on_. Can't you just play along?"

"And before you answer that," the cat said, drawing a long knife and pointing it at him, "Remember that we all need each other if we're going to save our worlds."

The man in black only shrugged, signaling his capitulation, and offered no further comment.

"Glad that's settled, then." The man in blue armor said, motioning for the catwoman to lower her knife. "Since we're all going to be team-mates, fighting Chaos together and all, I figure we ought to get to know one another."

"Introductions are in order," the man in green supplied.

"Right! So I guess I'll go first. My name's Benjamin. I like summoners and do not like getting stabbed."

"I'm Brandt. I uh, I like being a dog, and I don't like being a bush?" The boy with gray hair said. The others stared at him for a minute and he said, "Yeah, it was a bad week."

"I am Ramza Beoulve," the man in green said, "I do not tolerate liars. If I find out someone here is deceiving the rest, I'll be pressed to expose them."

"Hold on, who made you the leader?" the man with the crystal in his cheek asked, "The name's Layle, and I'm definitely the hero of the story."

"My name is Y'shtola," the cat said, smiling to reveal sharp teeth, "I'm a Miqote. I'm just assuming the rest of you know what that is."

"I have no idea," the woman in ripped jeans said. "My name is Aya Brea. I, uh, I'm guessing swords are standard issue here?"

"Kaze," the man in black offered.

"Yeah, of course swords are standard issue," Brandt said, "I mean, what kind of hero doesn't use a sword?"

"I don't," Layle said.

"I use a gun," Aya added.

"A gun?" Brandt asked, cocking his head to the side. "What is a gu-uhn?"

"This?" Aya said, pulling one out of her holster and aiming for Brandt's head.

Ramza, seeing the weapon, ran forward and slapped Aya's hand downward, "Good Gods, woman!" He exclaimed, "watch where you point that thing!"

"Sorry," Aya said, "It's not like I was gonna shoot him or anything. Still, it's nice to know someone at least knows what a gun _is_."

"We've no time for games," Ramza said gently, "We need to work as a team and fight Chaos if we're to save our worlds."

"Then you will help me?" Cosmos asked.

"Did you ever give us a choice?" Ramza replied in a joking tone. "I want my memories back, so I must fight for you. Even if my world wasn't at stake, I'd still be chained to your service for my memories."

"And the rest of you?"

"I'm in!" Brandt said, "Let's go get some bad guys!"

"That's the spirit!" Benjamin called, "Count me in, too! With my cure spell, they'll quake before us!"

"Oh no, you guys aren't gonna out-do me!" Layle exclaimed, "I bet I can take down ten times the nutjobs you guys take down!"

"Count me in," Y'shtola purred, "I want my memories back, too."

"Yeah," Aya said, "Although this whole memory-loss thing seems kinda familiar to me."

"I'll do it," Kaze said, "As it seems I've no other option."

Cosmos smiled. It was a beautiful, if somewhat sad smile. The corners of her eyes wrinkled slightly with crows' feet, and she seemed on the verge of tears. She breathed in deeply, her bosom rising as she did. After a moment's pause, she said, "Thank you. Warriors of Order, thank you for coming to my aid. You are truly the Heroes I've been looking for."


	3. Chapter 2 You Are Chaos

_**SHORES OF THE CARDIAN ISLES, NEAR THE DRAGON KING'S GATEWAY, WORLD B.**_

_**DAY 1, CYCLE "014".**_

The Cardian Isles are a beautiful place, full of tropical life and vibrant scenery. Beneath them is a series of semi-volcanic caves which link the isles together into one continent. The Cardian dragons have long made this place their home, and their society has lived in harmony with nature. Those who have visited the islands, which are perilous and dangerous to any sailor, have described them as nothing less than Paradise.

That is, in World A. In World B, they are a harrowed, scorched, forsaken series of rocks rising up from the lifeless sea. Even the Moogles shun them. None has dared step here, for it is known that the Lord Dragon made His nest upon these isles, and His wrath was to be avoided at all costs.

Seated on the beach were five figures. They were all huddled, their shivering, sopping bodies bunched together for warmth in the setting sun. Behind them stood six others. Five in a row, with one standing between both sets.

He, dressed in red, shouted at those huddled on the beach, "Hello, maggots. Welcome to Hell. Some of you must be wondering now: Why am I here? What have I done to land myself amidst so terrible a set as these?" He laughed, then kicked sand in their faces. "Allow me to explain just what you have done!

"Your Gods have forsaken you. You have been abandoned by them! And why shouldn't they abandon you? What cause have any of your Gods to love you? Have you done them a great service? As have I! But, as you can well see, here I am before you all now, amidst those you would deem evil, monstrous, and worthy of death.

"Even as they are, so are you! Allow me to explain to you why the Gods have left you to this place! You. Are. All. Chaos. Every last one of you is Chaos! The Lord our God, Chaos, the Son of God, gave His life for you, and all of you contain a portion of His power! In fear of the return of the most righteous Chaos, the Gods have shunted you into this realm.

"Even now, the Goddess Cosmos has summoned warriors to slay each of you for the crime of being Chaos. Even now, inside yourselves, Chaos is waiting. You are His seed. You are the children of the Son of God. You are therefore the Children of God! From within you He will rise again, and when He does, all they who sought to hurt you will be made to pay for frightening God's Children!

"Join us, then, and become the New Chaos! Prepare the world for the Second Coming of the Son of God! What say you!"

The five on the shore looked at him a moment, as if unsure what to say. At last, one of them, horned and dressed in white, got to his feet. From behind a bone mask, he rasped, "I will join Chaos, and I will prepare the world for His coming!"

"So will I!" A girl dressed in a myriad of colors. "Tell me what I must do to prepare the world for the Son of God's Second Advent!"

"I will join Chaos!" A white mage called, getting up. "The Gods rejected me, but I won't let that stop me!"

"Aye!" a man in golden armor said, "I am no pawn of Gods!"

Their eyes at last came to rest on the woman with blonde hair, dressed in a white cape and beige clothes. She looked at them uneasily, until the white mage extended her hand and smiled at her. She whispered, "It's okay. I'll watch your back."

The woman in white took her hand and got up. When she did, she said, "Let's do this. If being Chaos is our fate, let's make the most of it!"

"How touching. You stupid maggots are almost enough to make me pleased," the man in red growled. "Here's how this is going to work. I'll be going with you, because we don't trust one of your asses further than Oscha here," he cocked his head at the figure with no visible arms, "can throw it. Our mission is a simple one: to defeat Cosmos and Her flunkies and get the crystals before they do. Perform well, and Chaos will grant you your wish when He comes into His kingdom. Fail, and His wrath will be upon you forever."

"A wise decision, Lord Valentine," an elderly man called out. "This untrustworthy lot will surely betray us without your guidance."

"Do I look like a fool, Barthandelus? Lord Chaos was betrayed by those who professed the closest alliance. I'll be keeping an eye on you damned fools just as much as these."

"That sounds like an over extension," a monster in a top hat said, "You are surely enough for so small a number as Cosmos has summoned.

"We have more than those gathered on this beach," Valentine spat, "Do you honestly believe Cosmos and Hers are our only threat? Open your eyes, man. God has been silent for days now. There are forces at work here far more dangerous than merely Cosmos."

"You sound as though you lack confidence," a kingly fellow guffawed.

"I'd sooner lack that than the wit you seem to be missing. But rest assured, I know we need only wait for Chaos to come and our victory is assured."

"ThEn We hAvE nOtHiNg To FeAr," Oscha sang.

"I certainly hope not," Valentine muttered, "for all our sakes."


	4. Chapter 3 Mannikin

_**CORNERIAN FIELDS, WORLD B.**_

_**DAY 02, CYCLE "014".**_

_**BRANDT**_

The walk was a pretty depressing one, he'd decided. Everyone was quiet, and the world around them was lifeless. From the Sanctuary to this field, there had been nothing more than a barren wasteland. In the distance were some ruins, he thought, but he couldn't be sure. On every side there was an indication of life, and the stark reminder of its absence.

The world, he realized, was very much dead. Brandt had never seen a dead world before. At least, he assumed he never had. It certainly felt that way. Nothing lived here. There was no grass, there were no trees, no birds singing in the air. If he drank up the sea, he would find no fish underneath it. This was a dead world, and thinking that made him wonder: if one were to die in a dead world, where did one go?

It was too depressing a thought for him to dwell, on though. Brandt had never considered himself one for brooding, and he didn't think that this would be a good time for him to really focus on that. So he allowed his eyes to wander a bit as he walked along in silence with his companions.

Kaze walked rather rigidly, he noted, while Layle put a lot more energy into his steps. Ramza was striding far ahead of them, with Benjamin trying to catch up. In front of him on the trail was Y'shtola. Her tail was fairly distracting, and it ultimately lead to his tripping once or twice as he stared at it. He remembered, vaguely, having a tail of his own, once. Which was odd, since he most certainly didn't have one now. Aside from Y'shtola there was Aya, whose pants were made of a strange fabric that he was trying to figure out the origin of.

No longer able to bear the silence, Brandt slipped past Y'shtola to walk alongside Aya, and asked, "Hey, this is gonna be a weird question," he began. She looked at him inquisitively and he, wincing, asked, "What are your pants made from?"

Aya stared back a moment, then, with a small smile, said, "Denim. They're jeans. Haven't you ever seen jeans before?"

"Uhm, no. Are they comfortable? They look pretty tight."

"Wh-? U-uh, yeah, they're fine."

"Were you in a fight?" He asked.

"What?"

"Your pants are all ripped up. Did you get attacked?"

"What's your obsession with my pants, anyway!" Aya snapped at him.

Brandt took a step back as he realized the others had all stopped to see what the commotion was. "N-nothing," he muttered, before lowering his head. The group began to walk again, and he returned to the rear.

His ears red with embarrassment, Brandt wondered what he had said wrong. All he'd done was ask a few questions about Aya's pants. Was that so wrong? After all, they were something odd, like the "gun" she carried. He'd never heard of jeans or guns and he wanted to know more. It felt to him like she was being awful harsh for no good reason.

His reverie was interrupted, though, when Ramza called the group to a halt. When he caught up with the rest of the group, Brandt heard Layle ask, "What's up?"

"Someone's up ahead," Ramza said. "They're walking slowly, but they're heading our way."

"What are we waiting here for, then?" Aya exclaimed, "let's go see who it is!"

"And what if it's one of Chaos' men?" Kaze pointed out. "We just go running into their arms?"

"I-I hadn't thought-,"

"No, I didn't think you had."

"CLI-_CHE_," Layle groaned. "Even your _put downs_ are cliché, man!"

"Should we ambush them?" Benjamin asked. "We outnumber them. We could strike first and ask questions later."

"I think we should just observe them." Y'shtola offered, "We should hide ourselves and watch. If it turns out to be Chaos' warriors, we stop them. If it's an ally, we offer aid."

"What if it's neither?" Brandt asked.

"Who would possibly be here other than us and Chaos' warriors?" Kaze asked. "In case you haven't noticed, nothing _lives_ here."

"Cosmos does," Brandt replied.

"Which is a greater bother, still," Ramza said. "We know so little about Her, but find ourselves forced into Her service."

"Not my fault," Kaze said.

"No, I suppose not. Nor have I any to blame but myself for this. Still, something seems off about all this. Y'shtola's plan is the wisest. Let us hide ourselves and wait to see what is coming."

At Ramza's command, they all scrambled off to hide on the sides of the pathway. Aya and Kaze ducked under an out cropping, where Aya held her gun upward. Ramza and Benjamin lay down behind several stones where they had a clear view of the road. That left Brandt to semi-cuddle with Y'shtola and Layle at the bottom of the hill.

Ten minutes passed, and Brandt became severely uncomfortable. He'd never been this close to a girl before. Not even a cat-girl like Y'shtola. He had the smallest impression he'd known another girl who'd been a cat, but he wasn't sure. On the other hand, Y'shtola's body felt soft, and warm, and he kind of liked it in a way he wasn't able to express.

A shuffling sound pulled his attention away from her and to the crest of the hill. Silhouetted by the dying sun was a figure, slowly dragging itself along. It reached the top of the hill, then fell forward, rolling down the hill. Brandt moved to check on it, but Y'shtola restrained him. He turned to face her, and her eyes demanded his staying still.

The figure pulled itself up, and it became apparent that its leg was broken, as well as one of its arms. Supposing such a creature could be no real threat, the party came out of hiding to check on it. It stopped as they approached, as if to watch them.

The only problem was it had no eyes. It had holes in its face where eyes should be, and spheres which could be taken to mean eyes, but they couldn't accurately be called eyes. They seemed to be, like the rest of its body, made from a strange crystalline flesh, a pale blue in color. It was wearing armor, and in- no, fused to- one of its hands was a broken sword, the blade extending less than a full foot forward. Its body moved as if it were breathing, but the sound it made was sickly, and almost mechanical.

"Are you alright?" Layle asked it.

The person turned its head in his direction, and swung its sword at him. They all took a step back after that. It was clear that this thing was not exactly friendly. Still, it was so pathetic that attacking it seemed hopelessly cruel.

"Do you think it understands us?" Ramza asked.

"It? It's a he! Look at him! He's hurt!" Aya insisted.

"Have you ever seen a person like this?" Y'shtola asked, stepping toward the crystal man. "He looks unwell, if indeed he is not meant to look like this."

As she was about to stroke its side, Benjamin snapped, "Don't touch it!" At once everyone turned to look at him. "It's a Manikin."

"A what?" Kaze asked, eyeing him over his shades.

"A Manikin." Benjamin repeated. "The word came to me just now."

"What are mannequins?" Brandt asked.

"I don't remember. Like I said, the word just came to me. I think they're monsters."

"Look at him, though!" Aya replied, "he looks human! How can he be a monster?"

"Are you blind?" Layle barked, "Stupid thing took a swing at me!"

"I say we put it down," Y'shtola said, rubbing the side of her arm with her hand and eyeing the Manikin uneasily.

"Put it down!" Aya shouted, "What for?"

"That does seem a bit unnecessary," Ramza said. "Its sword is broken and blunt. This thing poses no threat to us."

"Where do you think it was headed?" Kaze asked, indicating that he had an idea. "We're still less than a day's march from the Palace of Order, and we left Cosmos undefended there. You and I can kill this whenever we want. Could our Goddess in distress, though?"

"There's more to it than that," Benjamin added. "Can you imagine waking up tonight and seeing this thing hovering above you, ready to stab? Sure, the blade's blunt, but with enough force . . ."

"I don't like it." Y'shtola said to Aya, "I don't like the way it looks at me with its dead eyes. I don't like the sound it makes when it breathes. I don't like that it can walk with broken legs. This is an unholy thing, and we should put it down for that, if nothing else."

"Bullshit! We're just going to kill things we don't like? What about you, huh? You're some cat-thing! Where I'm from cats are pets, not people! Should I shoot you because I'm not comfortable with what you are?"

"I would like to see you try," Y'shtola snarled.

"That's enough!" Ramza interjected. "None of us likes the idea of killing something that can't defend itself, but Kaze and Ben have good points. We can't let this thing kill us our Cosmos."

"So it's kill or be killed here, huh? How long before we turn on each other?" Aya demanded.

"Haven't we already?" Kaze asked. "Seems to me I'm on this journey against my will."

"Everybody shut up!" Brandt cried at last. "What kind of heroes are you! Cosmos asked us to save Her and put Her faith in us! Look at you all, fighting about stupid stuff like this! I'll put it down. If any of you have a problem with what we're doing here, _go away._ I'd rather die trying to get the crystal myself than live wondering when my own team is going to kill me!"

With that, Brandt drew his sword and stepped toward the Manikin. It cocked its head at him, then raised its broken sword.

"You don't have to do this, Brandt." Aya said.

"Yes I do. I want my memories back, and I want to keep my home safe, even if I can't remember it. This thing took a swing at Layle. What if it gets past us and takes a swing at the people we love? I won't let that happen!"

The Manikin limped into what was almost a lunge, but before it could get anywhere near him, Brandt brought his sword down on its head, splitting it in half. A strange, clear liquid sprayed out from the wound, and the Manikin made a horrible shrieking noise as Brandt hit it a second time. After that, it collapsed to the ground in a pathetic mess, not unlike a crumpled paper.

"We're going to have to make hard choices," Ramza said, "I think yours was the first, Brandt."

The rest of the Warriors of Cosmos looked at one another uneasily, waiting to see if any would leave the group then and there. At last, Benjamin broke the silence by asking: "So, who's hungry?"


	5. Chapter 4 Bonfire

_**CORNERIA CITY, WORLD B**_

_**DAY 1, EVENING**_

_**AYA BREA**_

Aya was still upset about what had happened earlier that day. It didn't sit well with her, killing something that couldn't defend itself. What bothered her more, though, was the weak justifications her traveling companions had offered for what they'd done. Their attitudes had unnerved her, and she wasn't at all comfortable around them. What frightened her most was that Brandt, who seemed to be the youngest of them, had been the one to brutally slaughter the poor thing.

They had arrived in what looked like was once a city. There were stones lying all over, hollowed out shells of houses, and in the distance a spire that suggested the remnant of some medieval castle. The technology was primitive here, undoubtedly, but more worrisome was that these ruins suggested that once, at some point in this world's past, people had lived here. Aya didn't want to know what had happened to them, but couldn't help wondering.

As night fell, the party decided to set up camp and get some rest. It wouldn't do them any good to wander aimlessly until they collapsed from weariness. Better to do it gradually, they reasoned. Aya was surprised when Ramza conjured a flame from thin air and used it to make a campfire.

"How did you do that?" She inquired.

"Do what?" Ramza asked. Then, seeing she was staring at the campfire, he said, "Oh, that. Magic, of course."

"Yeah, right. I'm not a kid anymore. I know there's no such thing as magic."

"Is that so? And before yesterday, would you have said that there were warring Gods, either?"

"I-," she stammered.

"Not everything in the world is as it seems."

"Says the man who doesn't know anything about this world."

"Perhaps," Ramza said with a smile, "but I feel that that's true. We can't cling to our old beliefs here. We have to be ready to open our minds a bit."

"But my old beliefs are all I have left of home. Who am I without them?"

"You're still Aya Brea. Maybe not the one you were when you got here, but Aya all the same."

"Not every change is for the better, though," she whispered, looking back at the flames.

"You're still upset about the Manikin today."

"Shouldn't I be? We come across the only living thing for miles and our first reaction is to kill it? That doesn't sit well with me, Mr. Beoulve."

"Maybe it shouldn't," Ramza answered, choosing each word carefully, "but we're here to fight, after all. I can't imagine that things will be easier from here on out."

"That's not an excuse! We just killed it!"

"Yes, we killed it. It attacked Layle. It was hostile."

"You don't know that! Maybe it attacked him because it was afraid! It was intelligent. It wasn't just some animal."

"And you don't know that, Aya. I'm not arguing with you; what we did is a highly questionable thing, and you're right to question it. Someone has to. If we go about killing light heartedly, we will become the monsters we fight. I don't have all the answers for you, Aya. I can't say one way or another- that it was right or wrong."

"Then why should I follow you?"

"Are you following me, Ms. Brea? Am I the leader? If I am, it isn't because I asked to be. If you'd rather not follow me, know that I won't be offended in the slightest. You tell me, though, Aya, why should you follow me, when we met just yesterday?"

"I . . . I don't know."

"Not any more than I do, then. I know this, though: We should stick together. We can split up now, if we want to, but sticking together is the better plan. Together we can support each other in our quest for the crystals, while alone we leave ourselves prey to Chaos' warriors."

"I need some time to think about this . . . _alone._" She stressed.

Ramza gave her a somewhat sad look, apparently disappointed that he could not dissolve her fears. He said, however, "Of course. Everyone should do this willingly."

With that, Aya got up and walked away from the camp. She walked past where Brandt was sleeping, curled up against Y'shtola, and where Benjamin was snoring, sprawled out near Layle. She walked past the crumbling gates of the city, and stared out across the lifeless wastes they had crossed that day.

"Have you noticed it yet?" someone asked her. She whipped her head toward the source of the sound and found Kaze leaning up against the ruined city wall, his arms folded across his chest. "There are no stars here."

Aya looked upward, expecting it to be a joke. To her dismay, he was absolutely right. There were no stars in the night sky at all. Where she was from, this was usually explained by light pollution, the lights of a city blotting out the starlight in the sky. There was no light here, though, so the lack of stars was all the more disturbing.

"I don't like this place," she said. "I don't like anything about it at all."

"There's definitely something going on here that no one is telling us about," Kaze agreed. "I don't trust our fearless leaders, either. Something about Cosmos seems off to me, and I think Ramza knows more than he lets on."

"What do you mean? He's lying about his memories missing?"

"I don't know. I just don't trust these people. Take this business of us getting the crystals, for example. Cosmos sent us off to find them without so much as an explanation of what they were and where we'll find them. Ramza doesn't seem bothered by it that much at all."

"True . . ." Aya said. "Nobody seems to be explaining much of anything to us at all."

"And why would they? We're easier to control when we don't know anything."

"Do you think that's their goal? I mean, Ramza said we should all do this willingly."

"Then why was I compelled to come along against my will?"

"I . . . can't answer that."

"This whole situation is off, if you ask me. I'd just as soon leave while they're all sleeping."

"Why don't you, then?" Aya asked. Kaze turned his head toward her, but between the cloth which covered his mouth and the shades hiding his eyes, his expression was as unreadable as his tone. "Why stay here? If you feel forced, then go. I won't stop you, and I don't think the others would waste their time hunting you in this wasteland. Why stay here, if you want to go that badly?"

He did not answer her immediately. When he did, his voice was somewhat heavier, and immediately less monotone. "I . . . want to know. Who am I? All I have is a name. What sort of man was I before this? Is anyone waiting for me back in my world? I . . . want my memories back. That's the best answer I can give you."

"That's all any of us want, I think." Aya said. "One way or another, it seems like we're stuck with each other until we get our memories back."

"Even so," Kaze said, "I'm not sure my memories are worth risking my skin. And I still don't trust them."

"Me either," Aya said. "Me either."


	6. Chapter 5 Meat

_**CORNELIA CITY, WORLD B**_

_**CYCLE "014", DAY 02, MORNING**_

_**Y'SHTOLA**_

The boy was still sleeping. He was hardly a boy, she supposed, but his youthful attitude made him seem younger than he was. He was certainly not yet a man, but that hardly mattered to her. There were many ways by which a culture measured who was and was not yet a man. The boy wasn't disqualified by any of these to her, he simply did not strike her as a man.

Y'shtola was curled up around him. Her body was in need of a good stretch, she realized, after having been curled all night. Yet she was loathe to wake the boy. He seemed so peaceful, so at rest. So free of the horrors of this world they had been called to. Why take this moment of peace from him, when his waking hours would be filled with war and monsters?

She couldn't quite say why she'd taken a liking to him. Maybe it was his decision to strike down the Manikin, or maybe it was the fact that her fur didn't put him off the way it did others, or maybe it was just his childlike attitude that seemed to draw her. Whatever the case, she was rather fond of this Brandt already.

Assessing her other travelling companions, Y'shotla found she could not say the same of them. Ramza seemed respectable enough, but there was something about his incredibly calm demeanor that bothered her. How was he not more upset by all of this? Then there was Kaze, who was even more aloof. Benjamin was as childlike as Brandt, without the excuse of being an actual child. Layle, who seemed full of himself, and Aya. Aya, who Y'shtola did not think had what it took to survive in this situation.

In spite of her feelings for them, though, she knew she would have to work with these people. Her world was at stake. Everyone she had ever known was at stake. Granted that she couldn't recall any of these people, but she didn't want to condemn them simply because she had forgotten. Bits and pieces of memories haunted her sleep last night, and she would fight to keep them all and more.

Cosmos had said they would need the Crystals to defeat Chaos and save their worlds, but had not said anything about how to get these crystals. This was what they needed to discuss today. Facing Chaos too soon, without their crystals would surely be a disaster, but waiting too long to obtain them would be just as bad. The crystals, then, were their top priority.

Deciding that the morning could not be wasted, Y'shtola slowly attempted to rise without waking Brandt. As she stretched her body out, though, a pleasured groan escaped her lips, and that was enough to cause his eyes to open.

He blushed beneath her, and asked shyly, "Good morning. D'you sleep well?"

Y'shtola got to her feet, then extended her tail. "I slept well. I hope my waking hours are as easy."

"D'you dream anything cool?" he asked, sitting up.

"I dreamt only of safer places," she lied.

"I dreamed I was a dog. You were there, too! I was all furry like you! We were a lot warmer."

"Dreams are only illusions meant to entertain us as we rest," she said, "We have hard times and hard things to face today. Shall we see what the others are doing?"

"Yeah," Brandt said, taking her hand and getting to his feet.

They walked over to the fire, where Benjamin and Ramza were seated, cooking. Whatever meat it was that they had on the flame, it smelled delicious to their empty stomachs. Before partaking, though, there was the matter of whence it had come.

"Where did you find food?" Y'shtola asked, seating herself across from them."

"And a good morning to you, too!" Benjamin said. "No respect," he muttered in addition.

Y'shtola, unamused, gave no response. Especially not until she received one to her own question.

Ramza's face betrayed no emotion as he said, "We found it in the ruins of an item shop to the north of here this morning."

"You found meat in a shop in a city that cannot have been inhabited for hundreds of years?"

"We found _food_ in a shop in a city that cannot have been inhabited for hundreds of years. If this is meat, I will not say, but that it is edible, Benjamin can attest."

"How does he know it is edible?"

"That's easy!" Benjamin said, crossing his arms, obviously proud of himself. With a nod he said, "I ate some of it!"

"You ate something you found buried in the rubble of an ancient city!"

"I was hungry!"

"It could be rotten! Or poisoned! Or inedible! Or all of that at once!"

"But it wasn't."

"How is something that's been buried for that long NOT rotten?"

"It's REALLY salty," he said, "Maybe it's jerky?"

"Jerky! Jerky doesn't keep for hundreds of years! What you're eating is _mummified._"

Benjamin made a face of disgust at the thought, then said, "but it tasted great!"

Y'shtola recoiled in horror. How could he be so nonchalant about eating the mummified remains of something he'd found in this desolate place? Her stomach voiced its own attraction to the fragrance, and her fear increased. She was hungry, and it smelled good.

"The fact of the matter is," Ramza began, "We found something to eat. We have to eat to survive. Moreover, we found evidence of life."

"That's not comforting," Brandt said. "I mean, yeah, something is alive here, but _what_?"

"Does it matter?" asked Layle, jumping down from some overhanging stones. "We need to get the crystals, and that's that."

"And before we get them," Ramza said, "I suggest you all eat."

Ramza drew some of the meat from the flames, and handed it to Y'shtola on the tip of his sword. She held it between two of her claws and looked at the faces staring back at her. The meat had been mummified, if not outright rotten. She didn't know if it was the meat of man or beast or child or what. Every part of her mind screamed against the idea, but her stomach overrode it all. Be this the flesh of man, child, beast, bird, fish, or God, she was hungry, and she needed to eat to live.

Cautiously, she opened her mouth and slowly bit the meat between her teeth. As the side of her tongue touched it, saliva filled her mouth and her tongue told her brain and stomach that, salty as it was, it was still delicious. Even as she chewed it, the taste fought against the idea of it being the meat of children, of innocents. In that one moment a horrible realization came to her.

All life consumes other lives to survive. The plant draws the elements to survive, and the beast the plant or other beasts, and the thinking being the beasts, plants, and, to her everlasting horror, other thinking beings when necessity required it. She was hungry, and that hunger consumed the mummified flesh greedily, regardless of its origins. For one single moment, she thought she would vomit, then weep, then both.

"What's eating her?" Aya asked, as she and Kaze arrived. Her poor word choice caused Y'shtola to get up and push past them, running as far as she could. She made it no more than ten feet before she began to heave and sob at once.

Between the movements of her stomach and her tears, Y'shtola only managed to wail, "I ate it!" again and again.

"She's gone nuts!" Layle remarked, snatching up a piece of the meat to eat.

"Stay your tongue," Ramza said sharply, waving a hand to silence him.

"I didn't think the meat was _that_ bad . . ." Benjamin muttered.

"It's not _about the meat!_" Y'shtola screamed before vomiting again. "I hate this! I hate this horrid city, this horrid world, this horrid situation! I don't know you people, I don't even remember my home! I don't want to be here, I don't want to eat this horrible food and wonder what we're going to eat next and how long till we eat each other! We might as well give up now! We'll be dead long before Chaos ever gets here!"

"Oh, is _that_ your problem?" Aya said, crossing her arms, "Well how about you just stop being such a pussy and get over it?"

"What did you say?" Y'shtola shrieked, turning on her. "I don't see YOU eating it!"

"I said get over it. And yourself. I didn't want to kill the Manikin, but you went right ahead and did that anyway. Now it's your turn. Deal with the food."

"That's not even-"

"As I recall it," Kaze added, "I didn't want to come along, but you told me to deal with it."

"I-,"

"What's the matter? Can't stand the taste of your own medicine?" Aya asked.

"That's enough!" Ramza shouted, stepping between them. "Look at the lot of you! Fighting amongst yourselves! What good can come of this? We'll never find the crystals like this!"

"That's a whole 'nother problem, isn't it?" Layle asked. "I mean, sure, we gotta find the crystals, but _how?_ I mean, Cosmos just abandoned us without food, water, or information in this place. What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know," Ramza said, "but fighting amongst us isn't it. We need to pull together, not break apart!"

"Why is that?" Aya asked. "I'm rethinking this whole thing. And while I am, I have to ask: who died and made you king, anyway?"

"That's actually a funny story-," Benjamin began before adding, "Well, actually, it's a sad story, but it's funny you should bring it up. Well, no, I guess it isn't funny, it's just all around a really sad thing."

"Hey hey hey!" Brandt said, "What's all the fuss over? Maybe Y'shtola got out of line, and now that you've given her a piece of your mind, right? So now we're even!"

"Right," Aya said, "So now we can go."

"Wait, what! No, no no!"

"Why not?"

"We're heroes! We have to stick together!"

"He's right," Benjamin said, "we're the good guys. The bad guys fight each other, not the good guys."  
>"How can you be so idealistic?" Aya asked, "This is naïve."<p>

"How can you be so hypocritical?" Ramza asked her softly.

"WHAT?"

"You want Y'shtola to get over it? Why should she if neither you nor Kaze have gotten over your own grievances. Your words have no weight so long as you bear grudges. You want her to get over herself? I think maybe you should lead by example, then."

"And maybe you shouldn't lead at all!"

"Then I won't. Have you got a plan, Miss Brea? All you've done is criticize. Does that excuse Y'shtola? No. But your criticism has done nothing to help the group, either. Do you dislike my actions? Show me, then, how you would lead us. Thus far you have only dissented, and offered no aid. Show me better, then."

"I don't need this."

"You do need this, whether you acknowledge that or not. Benjamin and Brandt are right. We're the only line of defense between the unsuspecting worlds out there and Chaos and His minions. If you're too busy worrying about yourself, you should go. If you can survive alone out there, then go. If you truly believe you can make peace with a monster that attacked us first, then go. If you don't like the mission, and I extend this to all of you, then leave. Bad enough we must be trapped in this forsaken waste, starving and fearing attack at every moment, I have no interest in compounding that with the incessant bickering you're all hell-bent on. If you insist on sticking together to kill each other, know that I will take no part. This has gone on long enough."

"Well said, Lord Beoulve," mocked a voice from the far end of the street. In unison the party drew their weapons to face the source of the sound. To their surprise, it was nothing more than an old man.

He appeared to be middle-aged, with shoulder length hair, a blonde so light it was rapidly turning white. He had a beard that descended from his lips to hang from his chin. He wore round glasses and a red jacket over pink and orange robes. By all accounts, he was unarmed.

"Who are you?" Y'shtola asked, at last regaining her composure.

"My name I cast aside ages ago. It was a common and useless thing, and a chain binding me to a fate I did not desire. For the sake of simplicity, though, my friends, you may call me . . . _The Scholar._"


	7. Chapter 6 The Scholar

_**CORNERIA CITY, WORLD B.**_

_**CYCLE "014", DAY 2, MID-MORNING.**_

_**LAYLE**_

"The Scholar? Never heard of him," Layle said, giving a flippant shrug.

"That's quite alright," The Scholar said, stepping nearer. The others took a step back and raised their weapons as he did. He tilted his head to the side, then, laughing, said, "I mean you no harm. I know all of you as if you were my own children. Why would I ever want ill for you?"

"You . . . know us?" Ramza asked, voicing the question the others had thought.

"Oh of course I do! I have labored very hard to bring you all to this place. Getting you all here, together, has been hard work. Of course I know you! I've done so much _for_ you! I know you, Ramza. I know your hopes and dreams, I know your strengths and weaknesses, and all your secrets."

"All his secrets? Give me a break, buddy," Layle said. "If you were looking to tell us you're a God, that ship's sailed already. We just met one yesterday."

"I am no God," The Scholar explained, bowing as he spoke, "I am a humble servant of the people. It is the people I have come to help, and it is their cause that I champion."

"I've never seen so boastful a servant," Kaze stated dryly.

"Boastful? I apologize if that is the intent you have perceived. What I have said is the simple truth, and nothing more."

"You said you knew our darkest secrets, though," Y'shtola hissed, "How is that true?"

The Scholar sighed, then, adjusting his glasses by pushing them up his nose at the center, he said, "If you insist I demonstrate, very well." He pointed to each of them as he named their secrets off. "You, Ramza, are terrified. Absolutely scared. All last night you prayed to any God who could hear you that the group would not turn against one another.

"You, Kaze, are surprised by how vocal you have been since arriving. This amount of speaking is uncharacteristic for you. You suppose it might be a pathetic attempt to bed Ms. Brea, and worry that your attempts to lead her away from the group have this same purpose.

"You, Y'shtola, are offended by the fact that no one here is like you. You don't know why it bothers you so much, indeed, you don't know why anyone here bothers you so much, but you have these thoughts none the less. What's more is that you _liked_ that meat, and even now you'd kill for another.

"You, Aya, have been planning on leaving this whole group behind since the moment you first woke up. But for all your talk, you know you never will, and for as much as you challenge Ramza's leadership, you know you trust him, even if you don't know WHY.

"You, Brandt, have already contemplated the idea of sex with both Aya and Y'Shtola. You don't quite know that that's what you've contemplated because you are still a young man, but the desire is stirring inside you. Your little crush on Y'Shtola has motivated you to follow her wherever. Don't worry, though, because:

"You, Layle, have been every bit as naughty as Brandt, and then some. You're interested in keeping the group together because you, like Brandt and Kaze, have something other than saving the world on your mind.

"And you, dear Benjamin-,"

"Let me guess," Benjamin interjected hastily, "I want to sleep with Aya and Y'Shtola, too, huh? OoooOOOooooh. Good job! You figured me out! I like _girls!_ What other revelations do you have up your sleeve?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Depends, do you want to know what shocking revelations I have about you?"

"Try me, boy. You couldn't expose the truth if it were a naked woman before you on Romantic Beach."

"Here's one for you, Scholar: I see you in the very near future! Would you like to know what you're doing? Going and fucking yourself! Want to know how? You're taking these revelations and shoving them up your-,"

"How cute," The Scholar replied. "Is this how the rest of you welcome your benefactor? With obscenities and juvenile japes?"

"Our benefactor?" Aya asked, "You haven't done anything beneficial so far."

"And for that I apologize. I have been . . . distracted . . . thus far. Allow me to provide you with a few things which you will find to your good." The Scholar waved a hand and in it appeared a strange, semi-solid, transparent blue mass. "I understand you are . . . hungry. The mummified meat you found is indeed proof that there was life here, once. To explain that, though, would require more time than we can afford.

"To the matter of how to feed yourselves, then, I present the following." With a flourish of his hand, he flicked the mass and it jiggled softly as he did. "This is the flesh of a fygg. Fyggs are the only edible plant that still grows in this world. They grow on the Kaypey tree, and were once valued by the Moogles of the realm. You can eat these, and will have enough nutrition and strength to carry on for a few hours more. Or," he said, twisting the wrist of his other hand to cause an opaque, crystalline mass to appear in his hand, "You can eat this.

"It is the meat of a Manikin. Unpleasant, it is true, but far more nourishing than the fygg fruit will ever be. He who eats the Manikin meat will grow stronger every time. It is a rare candy, good for the bones, if harrowing to the soul."

"You propose we _eat_ the Manikins?" Aya asked in horror.

"I propose nothing, dear Ms. Brea. I am only informing you that, should you desire it, you can."

"So we must eat one manner of crystal or another in our quest to obtain the crystals?" Layle joked, sarcasm evident, "what a joy."

"Ah, yes, the quest to obtain the Crystals. About that . . ."

"What now?" Aya groaned.

"More information, that is all."

"Inform, then," beckoned Kaze.

"What has Cosmos told you about the Crystals? That your getting them will help you defeat Chaos?"

"Yes," Y'Shtola answered. "Did she lie?"

"Lie? No, I suppose that, technically, what she told you was the truth. If you obtained the Crystals, you could, indeed, defeat Chaos."

"What's the problem then?" Layle asked, more than a little impatient at this point. All this talking was beginning to annoy him.

"Consider," he said, waving the two crystals away as if they were made of fog, "what have you just learned? Though we all believe that crystals ought to be nothing more than ordinary rocks of a slightly greater visual appearance, that is not the case in this world. The evidence suggests to your mind that if fyggs and manikins are both edible, and both crystalline, what?"

"Crystals are edible?" Layle supposed.

"Crystals are _life_. If you are to defeat Chaos and live you need them. If you are to eat, you must eat one or the other. If crystals, then, are life, what is the absence of a crystal?"

"Death, obviously," Y'Shtola answered.

"Precisely! But whose death? In the case of the Manikin, it is his death should you take his crystal and eat it. In the case of the fygg it is the same. In your case it is death if you don't do one or the other. Who lives and who dies if you obtain Cosmos' crystals, then?"

The revelation came swiftly to them, and each party member looked away in distress. Not a one dared voice for a moment the inevitable conclusion that The Scholar had presented them with. Until, of course, Ramza spoke up.

"Cosmos will die if we obtain the crystals."

"Correct," he affirmed.

"Why would she send us on such a mission, then?"

"Who can say?" the Scholar shrugged as Benjamin muttered, "that's a trademark!" "Perhaps Cosmos is tired of fighting Chaos. She has been doing so for a very long time. Perhaps the weight of Her sins has at last crushed Her, and She has realized how evil it is to send men and women to die for the pleasure of the Gods. Perhaps She values your lives above Her own. Perhaps She has tired of trying to force order and harmony on a system that at once rejects her vision of such concepts and, perhaps, such concepts entirely. For myself, I think She has just given up all hope.

"After all, if you get the crystals, She will die, but if you do not get the crystals, She will still surely die."

"What does that mean?"

"Cosmos has perhaps lied to you, or rather misinformed you. You are her _last_ defenders. Not her _only_ defenders."

"You mean she has other warriors out there, too?"

"Has? No. _Had._"

"When?"

"Ah, too much information for one day, my friends. Perhaps the next time we speak? For now, though, I must be going."

"Wait!" Aya called out. The Scholar, turning already, stopped and looked at her. "Please, tell us!"

"If you so desire. This is not the first time Cosmos and Chaos have done battle with each other. They have been fighting each other for a long, long, time. The War of the Gods has been waged with the lives of all men, everywhere. Some of them were good men, some evil, on either side of this battle.

"That is why I am here. I am a servant of the people. The Gods have treated our lives as if we were cattle or lower. We have been their toys, and now that needs to stop. I have worked a long, hard time to free the people from this battle of the Gods. That is why I aid you now: to free you."

Benjamin snorted in derision. When he did, Layle asked, "You got something to say? You seem to not like the guy."

"Me? No. I've got nothing to say. And there's nothing here for me to hear, either. If you want to listen, fine. As for me? I've got worlds to save." With this commentary he departed, evidently angry.

When Benjamin left, The Scholar said, "You will face worse than this, yet. Take note of your allies. Ask yourselves: Are the Children of Chaos going to look any different than you? But more importantly, ask yourselves this: Is Cosmos truly your ally? A Goddess who explains nothing to you, can She be trusted? This is the mystery you will need to solve. On that note, though, my friends, I must leave."

The Scholar abruptly vanished from before their eyes, leaving a pale, thin wisp of smoke in his wake. They were left then, the six of them, to hope discuss amongst themselves the strange things which had transpired this morning.

Layle broke the silence, saying, "This place just gets weirder and weirder every day, huh?"

"If there's even such a thing as normal anymore," Aya said.

"What do we do now?" Brandt asked. "Are we really gonna eat the Manikins?"

"Naaaaaaaah," they all said after a pause.

"That's just gross," Y'Shtola said, "They look too much like people to eat."  
>"Plus there're fyggs, so it's not eat or be eaten."<p>

"How far can we trust this Scholar, anyway?"

"Benjamin seems to think we shouldn't trust him at all," Layle said, "unless I'm mistaken on that."

"No," Ramza said, "He certainly seemed upset."

"Someone should go talk to him," Brandt said.

"I'd do it," Layle said, "but what's there to talk about?"

"I'll talk to him," Kaze said.

"You?" they all asked in unison.

"Yeah. I'm a good listener."

"What do we do about the Crystals, though?"

"Why don't we all think about it, then discuss our thoughts at the end of the day?" Ramza proposed.

"Sounds fine to me," Aya said. She smiled at him to emphasize her agreement.

"Well then. Kaze, go see Benjamin, then we'll start heading out and looking for these fyggs."

"And that's a wrap!" Layle said, clapping his hands. Despite every warning, he was genuinely excited about the adventure. Things, he supposed, could still be fun.


	8. Chapter 7: King Stephanus Cornelia

_**CORNERIA CASTLE, WORLD B.**_

_**CYCLE "014", DAY 2.  
>AFTERNOON.<strong>_

_**KAZE, THE BLACK WIND.**_

At the far end of the city there loomed the toppled spires of a once-proud castle. It was made from a dull grey brick, possibly granite, and appeared to have once stood higher than any other structure in the surrounding lands. The portcullis had been smashed to pieces, and the east-wing of the castle appeared to be collapsed in on itself.

Kaze wandered the hallways cautiously, looking for Benjamin as he went. He had volunteered for this task, but hadn't actually explained why. There was something seriously off about his companion, and he wanted to know what it was. Too much about this Benjamin guy didn't add up.

__None of them had any memory of the worlds they had left behind, or of their lives prior to being dumped here at Cosmos' feet. Despite this, Benjamin knew what a Manikin was, and had seemed to know The Scholar. More unnerving, though, had been the fact that The Scholar seemed to know Benjamin as well, and had actually been cowed by him.

There was something very, very wrong about this. In fact, as Kaze thought on it, he realized that Benjamin had been preparing to say something when first they'd met Cosmos, only for Ramza to silence him. Did that mean Ramza knew more than he let on, too, or had that been only happenstance? It certainly seemed that the two of them were becoming close, and that bothered Kaze all the more.

He, like all the others of the group, didn't really trust any other member of its body. Yet circumstance seemed to be forcing their cooperation, and compliance was a necessity for survival. Much as he tried to act unconcerned, the need for food and safety compelled him to admit, at least to himself, that alone he could not survive in this place. This city was the calm before the storm, but soon, he supposed, he would be facing hordes of foes and fighting for a world he could not remember or envision.

He turned a corner and found a large staircase awaiting him. Supposing Benjamin to be at its top, for no reason other than a wild guess, Kaze began the ascent. It was interesting to note that every eleventh and fourteenth step was broken, and that every thirteen step appeared to break as he stepped on it. He pondered the significance of this as he rose.

There were seven of them, and twice seven was fourteen. Therefore the seventh and fourth among them would die, and the fifth or sixth would be severely wounded. It was a morbid, depressing line of thought, and the sort he often indulged in. His life hadn't been easy before coming here, he believed, and this manner of black humor was a result of that.

But wasn't that the benefit of this new world? Here he could be whoever he wanted. Whoever he felt like being. But he didn't really feel much like changing who he was. Then again, he didn't much LIKE who he was, either. It was just that the prospect of change terrified him. If he changed, he'd lose who he had been.

Not that he remembered who he was. Since Benjamin seemed to remember so much, perhaps he would inform him when he finally tracked him down.

He'd reached the top of the stairs at this point, and saw a door lying on the floor at the end of the corridor. From the naked portal he could see a light and, after a moment's observation, heard the sound of someone shuffling across the stone floor ahead.

Kaze wasted no time in getting to the doorway. What he saw when he passed through it was not quite what he had expected, though. What he had been expecting was hard to say, but this, he supposed, was most certainly not it.

Benjamin was in the room, it was true, but Kaze's attention soon abandoned Benjamin to the room in which he was. It appeared to be a throne room, and fine furnishings still festered in the corners. At the far end was a throne, above which was a stone relief of a woman who looked nothing less than like an exact duplicate of Cosmos, and, seated in the throne, was what appeared to be a man.

"Another visitor?" it asked, the voice like stone scraping metal.

"Who the-?" Kaze began, raising his metal arm.

"Put down the gun," Benjamin chided, "you can't hurt him anyway. He's either dead or not here."

"I am alive! And I am here!" the man said, struggling to rise.

"If that's the case, why didn't you die when I stabbed you?"

"I . . . do not remember such an incident."

"What's going on here?" Kaze asked.

"Why don't you explain to my friend, Sire?"

"I am King Stephanus Corneria the thirty first! This is my kingdom! You are trespassers in my castle!"

"Your castle is in ruins, your majesty."

"Nonsense! My castle cannot fall! Corneria is the military power of all the world! Our soldiers are proud and powerful! Our generals unstoppable! No one, from the Elves to the south, to the Pravokans to the east could hope to challenge our might!"

"I don't think Pravoka or the Elves are still out there, Highness. This world is dead."

"Dead . . . no, no the world lives still! Any day now the Warrior and his friends will bring me back my beloved daughter, and Garland, and all will be right!"

"Your daughter, this Warrior, and Garland are probably all dead. Nothing is alive out there."

"My daughter IS NOT DEAD!" King Stephanus roared, causing the castle itself to shake. "YOU WILL SEE! Sir Garland is merely playing a joke on me! The Warrior has gone to fetch them. THEY ARE FINE!"

"You're mad!"

"Mad? Me? How could I be angry? I am the happiest man in the world! I rule from the mountains to the rivers, and from the rivers to the ends of the earth. I have a lovely wife—have you seen her effigy, carved behind me? She is a descendent of the once proud Lufenian people—and I have two lovely daughters! My general, Garland, is the mightiest warrior the world has ever known. What could possibly anger a man like me?"

"Not anger, your grace, insanity. Your castle is in ruins, your village deserted, your daughter, your general, this warrior, his friends, your wife, your other daughter, your court, and perhaps you yourself—are all _dead._" Benjamin stated.

"Why trouble him? Let him be in his delusion." Kaze chided.

"He's Unsent."

"Unsent? What's that?"

"Undead, basically. He's a lingering spirit. He needs to move on."

"And if he doesn't want to?"

"There's no telling what could happen. He could become a Fiend, his heart could collapse in darkness and birth a Nobody or a Heartless or both, his anguish could birth Unversed. There's no end to the list of monsters that can be born from a single man's unwilling soul."

"And you know all this how?"

"I learned it as I dreamed, I guess."

"Am I expected to believe that?"

"Is it any harder to believe than anything else that's happened up till now?"

"I am not a monster!" King Corneria proclaimed, at last getting to his feet! "I am the King of Corneria! Lord of the entire world! How dare you speak of me so?"

"WAKE UP you old codger! You're DEAD."

"Threats will not be tolerated!"

"I'm not threatening you, you batty old fart! I'm telling you the truth! You're dead! You MUST be dead!"

"I AM NOT."

"Then where is everybody else?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

"And your court? Your wife? Your daughters?"

"They must be hiding! It's my birthday, and everybody is playing jokes on me!"

"They're dead, old man! DEAD. So are you!"

"No! No! Why have you come here, demon? Why do you torment me with your lies?"

"Wake up and see that it's the truth! Corneria has died! I know you know it!"

King Stephanus cried in frustration and the throne room shook horribly. The ceiling began to loose more stones, and a crack ran down the face of the Queen who looked like Cosmos. His beard stood on end as he fell to his knees. As he sobbed, the room shook in time.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the shaking subsided. King Stephanus Corneria wept like a child on the floor, but the throne room remained intact.

"I remember." He said. "I remember now."

"Remember what?" Kaze asked.

"This world was born when Chaos' timeloop collapsed. Centuries passed before my eyes. In an instant everyone was gone. I blinked again and the kingdom was in ruins. This world is dead. It is an aborted timeline, slain along with Chaos by warriors I myself sent. In a sense, I suppose I am the man who killed the world." He laughed bitterly, then said, "I can't even tell you when it all truly began. Garland and Sarah disappeared, and the Warrior and his friends arrived with the Crystals. I sent them to save my daughter, and then they slew Chaos and His fiends. That is when this world began, or was it when Chaos reached two thousand years into the future?

"Then, in the ruins, I saw him again: Garland. He was a ruined man, not so different from myself. Until he met Chaos, Cid, and Cosmos. She looked so much like her . . . The four left my castle without so much as a word. Then _HE_ came. The Divine Dragon. After that, from time to time I have seen warriors fighting on the plains. You are likely more of the same.

"Don't you see? _You_ are the Ghosts, not I. I am the only thing that belongs here. I am forever doomed to stand watch over this planet I have slain. Every time I open my eyes something else has gone, and some part of me has gone with it. Someday I shall open my eyes and find that there is nothing left to go away."

The Lord of Corneria, and the last true inhabitant of World B, resumed his weeping. He was a miserable sight. Gray, stringy, and pale as death. His tears did not even wet the floor beneath him. His broken, wooden frame shuddered in abject sorrow beneath the facsimile of the Queen who looked like Cosmos. Had Kaze been wiser, he would have reflected on the imagery. Had he been more informed, he would have been moved by the sight of the King shuddering in woe beneath Cosmos' likeness.

Instead, he said, "Pathetic."

Benjamin, though, came close to the king, and knelt down next to him. He put a hand on the King's back, which miraculously did not pass through him. When he spoke, it was soothing, a comforting kind of cooing that Kaze could not believe he was hearing.

"Shhhhh. There, there," Benjamin half-sang, "It's gonna be okay. We're here now, and we're gonna fix all of this."

"You? There have been slews like you before. Starry-eyed young people who have fought across the broken remains of my world. How could you possibly make a difference where they did not?"

"And you never even spoke to them?" Kaze said.

"I-I was afraid of them!"

"And your fear is the reason your world died. Nothing else."

"No! I couldn't DO anything! Every time I looked around, something else had gone away!"

"You need to let it go," Benjamin said, "The past makes us prisoners. Let go of it, and be free, your Highness. Move on. We'll set this right. You just get some rest."

"I can't leave! Corneria's King must always stand watch! If not . . ."

"If not, what?" Kaze spat. "If not the castle will remain in ruins, and the world will continue to die. Even if you stay, that's going to happen anyway."

"No! If the King of Corneria leaves, then, then, then . . ."

"Then what, old man?"

"If the King of Corneria abandons his kingdom, his kingdom will abandon him."

"It already HAS."

"No, NO! Corneria hasn't abandoned me!"

"Leave him, Benjamin, he's gone mad."

"No! He needs to cross over!"

"He won't even admit he's dead now. How are you going to convince him to move on? This man is as mad as the Gods who've trapped us here. Stay here and you'll go just as mad."


	9. Chapter 8 Again

_**THE THRONE ROOM, CORNERIA, WORLD B.**_

_**DAY 03, CYCLE 14**_

_**BENJAMIN**_

"King Stephanus, _please_." Benjamin urged again. Kaze had insisted they leave, and Benjamin was certain that that line of thinking was correct, but he wanted very much to help. Everything he'd seen up until now had told him that was necessary. With all this fighting, sometimes people lost track of what mattered most: people. Whether or not this King and the real King in the real world were one in the same he couldn't say.

That revelation was yet to come. "Boy," the King responded, "If you were told to choose, between believing that your family was still alive and abandoning that hope, which would you choose?"

"I would choose the truth, my lord." Benjamin said, not at all as sure of his words as he sounded. "I would want to know."

"I already know, and I'm afraid of admitting anything more."

"Because admission has made you believe you are responsible for what has happened here?"

"Because admission has made me realize I am responsible."

"Then what do you propose to do about it?"

"There is nothing to be done, boy."

"Isn't there? It seems to me you've got two choices: Let go and move on, or wallow here in guilt forever."

"Move on where, boy?"

"Home, my lord. Home to your family. They're waiting for you. Can you keep your lovely wife waiting any longer?"

"They're waiting for me?"

Benjamin turned the King's attention to the relief of his wife behind the throne. "Yes, my Lord. Can't you see her? Her arms are wide open for you, welcoming you home. King Stephanus, Lord of Corneria! You've been sleeping, my liege. Isn't it time you woke up to that beautiful wife of yours?"

"Jayne," the King whispered, reaching out for her. As he did, his hand began to fade away. He turned as his face vanished and mouthed, "Thank you, my boy" between tears. And then, at last, King Stephanus of Corneria was Sent, his spirit departing its prison.

"See?" Benjamin said, turning triumphantly to Kaze, "And you thought it was a bad thing!"

Just then the walls began to shake, and the floor pitched. The castle was crumbling. Relieved at last of her King, Corneria was now tearing herself down for lack of her Sovereign. The last remnants of the once proud kingdom could not sustain themselves without him.

"You were saying?" Kaze snorted as they ran for the exit.

"I know, _I know!_" Benjamin groaned over the terrible din of stones shrieking as they ground one another to dust.

They fled the collapsing castle with all haste. Ceilings caved in behind them, walls extended their hands in an effort to restrain, and the floor imploded behind their heels. Every step mattered, and any could cost their lives.

Benjamin tripped. His toe caught on a rock, and he stumbled forward. Crashing into Kaze, he tumbled forward and downward. But Kaze's balance was better than Benjamin's, and he rolled with the fall, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and hurtling out the front gate. The castle toppled as they panted and gasped for breath.

"Whoooo!" Benjamin exclaimed. "What a rush!"

The metal encasing Kaze's arm opened to reveal a gun, pointed squarely at Benjamin's face. "Talk," he demanded.

"I'm talking, I'm talking! What do you want to hear?"

"You could start by explaining some things, I think. Like who The Scholar is and how you know him."

"Hooo boy," Benjamin stammered. "That's gonna be hard."

"Do it anyway."

"How? I mean, what if I told you you were a Chocobo?"

"What?"

"Would you believe me? No, it'd sound crazy, right? Right. But what if you _were_ a Chocobo and just didn't know it? It'd be really hard to explain it to you as long as you didn't want to really know the answer."

"I do want to know the answer."

"You're not ready to believe you're a Chocobo yet."

"Wark, wark, kid. Talk."

"Oh man, you're serious, aren't you? How can I explain this to you in a way that won't make you want to blow my head off?"

"You could start by giving me some answers."

"Yeah but how will you know if I'm not lying?"

"I won't know if you don't say anything at all. How do you know the Scholar?"

"I don't actually know the Scholar."

"You sure as hell acted like you did just a little while ago."

"But the fact remains that I've never actually met the guy before today."

"Then why'd you act the way you did today?"

"He just creeps me out, you know?"

"I don't. And I'm not buying such a pathetic little explanation."

"I ain't sellin'." Benjamin retorted.

"You sure are. You threatened him and he backed down. That guy knew my own damn thoughts, and you threatened him. Who is he? How do you know him? Who the hell are you?"

"Me? I'm one of the good guys, duh. He's one of the bad guys."

"And how do you know this?"

"You're really not gonna let it go, are you?"

"No."

"What if I told you you were asleep until recently, and that The Scholar is one of the ones who tried to wake you up?"

"And?"

"And he tried to wake you up in the worst way he could, so that you'd be deprived of hope, and he alone would be the sole dispenser of hope. Then he could do whatever he damn well pleased."

"Is that supposed to mean anything?"

"What?"

"What a vague threat. "Anything he damn well pleased,"? Pathetic. You're going to have to do better than that."

"At this point, you can't be sure I'm not lying to you at all. I could tell you about a world of dreams disguised as an afterlife, of a game of Gods in which we've all been caught up by mistake, of love both false and true, of friends who've died, of horrible, unspeakable pain and suffering the likes of which would make the source of your petty, brooding angst embarrassing and laughable in comparison, and of angels and demons and reports and secret wars and destroyers and builders and flowers and flames and it would all come off as lies to you at this point."

"What?"

"You're so ready to disbelieve, aren't you, Kaze? So ready to give up on us all because you can't trust us, and you're so ready to distrust us because you can't trust yourself! Wake up, man! Look around you! You're in a dead world, pressed into the service of would-be-Gods, on the run from horrible crystalline monsters, and you've just fled the collapsing castle of the ghost or echo or spirit of a man imprisoned against his will in this hell-hole and do you stop and think to yourself that maybe, just maybe something really big and ominous is going on around you and that something really precious and unspeakable is at stake here? Do you?! No, you don't.

"You think about yourself, and your problems, and your pain, and you ignore the pain of others around you! Do you still want to leave?" Benjamin shouted, batting Kaze's gun out of his face and drawing his sword as he got to his feet. "Then go. Just go. I can't do all of this again. I can't suffer all of this a second time. I just can't."

Kaze stared in surprise for a moment, then raised his gun again. After a moments consideration, he lowered it and began to walk away, uttering only one word in response. "Again?"

Benjamin realized he'd played his hand too soon, and sank to his knees as Kaze began to fade in the distance. He had not intended this. They needed to stick together, to be a team, and he'd let his own pain and feelings project onto Kaze and drive him away. And worst of all was that he'd foolishly clued Kaze in to more than he needed to know.

"Kaze, wait-!" Benjamin called, though he knew it was too late. His mood blackened from there. He really was not interested in doing this all again. It had cost him everything last time, and he didn't have the energy to devote to all of this anymore.

That was the real reason he'd been so devoted to trying to Send King Stephanus. Benjamin was tired. The others were all resting now, but not him. He didn't get to have a break. No, instead he got to have his heart broken and his back stabbed. It hurt too much to remember, but unlike the others, he couldn't shut the memories out anymore.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could still remember it. He could remember the crumbling city, the golden tendrils, the sound of her increasingly mad laughter, the way her hair had turned white, the sound of it begging her for mercy just before she killed. The way even her lap felt cold in the end. And how his hand had struck . . .

No. No more. Not now, not again, not ever again.

Kaze had walked back in the direction of camp. That's where Aya would be, complaining about the Manikin. And Y'shtola, Brandt and Layle, so clueless and full of hope. And Ramza . . .

Benjamin turned in the exact opposite direction and started walking. He just couldn't do it again.


	10. Chapter 10 Treasure

_**CORNERIAN RUINS, WORLD D**_

_**DAY 03, CYCLE "14"**_

_**BRANDT**_

Where indeed? Brandt mulled over the question as Ramza stared at him in anticipation. It wasn't an easy thing to answer, and Brandt, already on the verge of tears, was having a hard time asking it. After all, he wasn't even sure where he was! How could he know the answer to Ramza's question without even knowing where he was?

He thought back to an hour or so ago, when he and Y'shtola had emerged from the building they'd been rummaging in to see the Castle crumbling. It had made a loud noise, and that had been what brought them out. Y'shtola's ears were twitching as the great gray clouds of dust puffed up into the air. Without any wind to blow them hence, they hung their only a short while before falling back to the ground.

They had met up with Ramza not long after that, but as always, he'd had no knowledge of what was happening, and had nothing to offer in the way of information. It hadn't been much later after that that Aya showed up. She was as testy as ever, but held her tongue until Kaze had come storming through camp.

Ramza shouted something at him, almost a taunt, but not quite. Kaze had turned and shoved him, and for a moment they appeared as if they would come to blows. Then Kaze spat one word, "Again." and marched off. Aya and Y'shtola began to argue at this same time, and Ramza pursued Kaze for a few steps. Then everyone was shouting and yelling and arguing and Brandt felt scared.

They were breaking apart. And why wouldn't they? They had barely been a team to begin with. Now they would all wander apart and die of starvation in the wilderness. Kaze left first, repeating "again" as he did. Aya followed shortly thereafter, and Y'shtola, still hissing, strode off in the opposite direction. Then there was only Brandt and Ramza.

Ramza spoke to him for awhile, but he was in a daze, and nothing much of what he had said stuck with him. Until Ramza had gone and asked him a question. Then there had been nothing to do but sit there and wonder. Where indeed? Brandt had no idea where he would go or what he would do, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. All he really wanted was to go home.

But he didn't remember home. He didn't remember where that was, and he was only sure that whatever home was, it wasn't here. This place was alien and horrifying, and nobody here was happy. Of course, he had been in places that were like this before, he was sure, but he couldn't remember them. He was sure that if he could, he would feel much better.

Ramza sighed, "You're still young, Brandt."

Brandt balked slightly at such a remark. "I'm man enough to know what happened here."

"What happened here, then?"

"We failed. Cosmos tasked us with saving all our loved ones, and we failed to do that."

"Loved ones we don't even remember having."

"I remember them!" He said. "I don't remember, but I mean, I remember that I had them."

"So . . . what now?"

"Now we die, I guess." Brandt said, imagining this was the response Ramza was expecting. "The worlds will die because we let them. We might as well be there to welcome them when they do."  
>"I don't much fancy doing that again," Ramza muttered.<p>

"What?"

"Nevermind. I have a better idea than dying, Brandt."

"And what's that?"

"Out there in this world is something better than even the Crystals, a treasure of incredible importance. One that, when we find, neither Chaos nor Cosmos will be able to challenge us."

"I'm not a kid, you know," Brandt insisted. "I don't go in for faerie tales anymore."

"You'd better," Ramza stated, emphatically, "You're in one now. And you know what the treasure is that is waiting for you at the end of your quest?"

"What, a pot of gold?"

"Yourself."

"Myself?"

"This place robbed us of who and what we are. If we head out there, we are bound to find ourselves. I'm sure the others will, too, and when they do, we'll be back together again."

"How can you be sure of that at all?"

"Little thing called _hope._ Someone gave me some once, and I intend to pay it forward." Ramza extended an open hand to Brandt. "So what do you say? Care to share a little hope with me?"

Brandt considered the offer briefly, then took his hand. "Yeah. I'm game."

"Excellent," Ramza said. "Now here's what we need to do."


	11. Chapter 11 Friend

_**EASTERN CORNERIAN SHORES, WORLD D**_

_**DAY 04, CYCLE "14"**_

_**Y'SHTOLA**_

She'd been walking for hours when she was forced to stop. There was nowhere left to walk. She had at last arrived at the sea, and the sight of it made her stomach churn and her tail stand on end. She had observed some terrifying things between the ruins and the shore, and she was at long last forced to confront them all in one wretched moment.

There were no stars here. No moons. No sun. How the world was lit was beyond her ken, but it was not by any celestial bodies. The sky was absolutely empty. Neither cloud nor squall drifted in the heavens. For that matter, there was no wind. A stale scent lingered over all the world; the smell of a land long since dried, withered, and rotted.

Indeed, the land beneath her feet could not be considered anything but brittle. Even seemingly jagged stones crumbled to powder in her hands. More than once she had stumbled for placing her feet on ground deceptively less solid than it appeared. And everywhere it was barren! No grass grew upon it, nor did any creature crawl across the face of the land. There were no signs of trees, or bushes, and even the dried up streambeds showed no indication that life had ever there been.

And it was cold. Naturally, it must be cold, as nothing in the sky warmed the world, but at the same time, it was a cold beyond normalcy. It did not freeze anything, but it chilled to the bone. It was a clammy, dead cold. No, perhaps cold was the wrong word for it. It was not cold, it was the absence of heat. The warmth had gone out of the world, in whatever horrific cataclysm it was that had brought the world to its grave.

Staring out into the sea, there was no real reason to question, nor to wonder, what had cost the world its life's blood. The planet had bled to death. The ocean that stretched out before her was black as blood long since spilled from a body. It made no waves, but rested placid upon the face of the world. It stank, but it was not the salt and brine of an ocean, but rather the metallic stench of blood. Here, at last, she found signs of life. The shore was littered with the bones of a thousand beasts. Anything which ever had swum in this sea had died in the torrential burst of blood, and in time their flesh had rotted, and naught remained now but bones to tell the tale.

Y'shtola sank to her knees and began to cry. The anger and bitterness she had felt toward Aya for all the stupid things she'd said were forgotten at the sight of those bones. Before this she had hoped, even at the sight of the city ruins, that this world had never known life of any kind. But now she could not deny it. Things had lived here, and now they were dead.

The whole world was dead. And if the sky above was any indication, it was alone as well. There was no one out there, and there was nothing here. It was a dead world, and if Cosmos' words were true, this was the fate in store for all worlds, when Chaos left this one. Chaos would break free of this place and ravage all worlds of their life, and leave them thus.

If He had not already. The sky was empty, black, and ravenous in appearance. What if Cosmos was wrong? What if Chaos had already destroyed the world? What if She KNEW and had only lied to give them hope? What then, could be done? Nothing. Nothing could be done. Y'Shtola's bones would not long from now join the menagerie here found, but no one would ever come to see them. She was the last witness, and now that all had gone their seperate ways, all would die alone, just as she most surely would.

"Woman," said a man behind her, "Why weepest thou?"

Y'shtola turned slowly, and saw the red-robed figure of The Scholar. Depressed as she was, she could not find it in herself to feel fear or anger at his sight. This man would be but bones beside her, too.

The Scholar gazed past her, to the bones upon the ground, and offered a paternal sigh. "I have no skeleton, you know." He walked past her as he gave his little speech. "When I died, a demon came, and separated my brain from my skull, and took it into himself. This has not happened yet, will not happen here, and may not happen ever. But this is the tale they told me in the world below.

"And I thought to myself: how could God do this? How could God allow some monster to just waltz in, steal my brain and slaughter my only grandson? What merciful God would sit idly by and let such a thing happen? And I concluded foolishly that there was no such thing as God."

Y'shtola only stared at the bones. Numbed by their countless multitude, she could not find it in herself to respond. She could only listen to what she thought she knew he would say.

"I was wrong, though, my dear friend. There IS a God." The Scholar motioned to the South East, far across the sea. "But God is not good. God is not love. God is a feeble old man, who reigned over us incompetently at best. God is a thief, who, seeing the beautiful, natural glory of the worlds, sought to take credit for Himself. And in His wake a thousand thousand fools followed. Do you know who killed this world? God did. Do you know who created Chaos? God did. Do you know who brought you here, to serve as a sacrifice to His whims? God did.

"God is your enemy, my friend, not I. God, who once wore the wretched, accursed name of Cid, sought to take the infinite for Himself, and so this world died, and all others will die, too, unless we act to stop Him. Oh yes, my friend, your home still exists, and I can get you there, but only if you promise to aid me. What do you say, then, friend? Will you not join me, in the fight against God? The fight for freedom? The fight to save your worlds from this terrible fate? For God used this world until He bled it dry. Will you not help this humble scholar in his quest to spare the rest from this terrible fate?"

Y'shtola gazed out into the dark, putrid sea. Her mind slowly crawled across the lands she had walked to reach this place. The journey she had taken to come to this tragic conclusion. She stared until her eyes hurt, and her heart hurt more. What if what the Scholar said was true? What if out there there was a world, and she could protect it?

Was the Scholar any more trustworthy than Cosmos? Was he any less terrifying than this world? Could she take a gamble on this enigmatic benefactor, who spoke of a God who had caused all this danger, or was he speaking in riddles to beguile her, and turn her to his whim, as surely as Cosmos had? Both spoke in promises of saving worlds, but neither gave anything truly concrete.

She turned her eyes to his, though, and wondered. Cosmos had been beautiful, as a Goddess surely must. Her hair had been of gold, her skin purest pale, her eyes the deepest blue, her raiment above the brightness of the sun. But this Scholar was not so. Though his robes were garish red, and his nose bulbous, eyebrows bushy, hair stringy, his appearance somewhere between an aged man and a man yet of youth, there was undeniably something grandfatherly about him. His eyes were intelligent, and his smile kind.

The Scholar was no God, she concluded, but a man. A man who did not seem so evil to her eyes, nor foreign as Cosmos had been. Just a man, who seemed to genuinely want to help her. A man, she dared consider, she might actually be able to trust.

"Friend," she at last said, drying her eyes, "What must we do?"


	12. Chapter 12 Can You Hear the Music?

_**THE TEMPLE OF GOD, WORLD D**_

_**DAY 07, CYCLE "014"**_

_**KAZE, THE BLACK WIND**_

It was beautiful. Alone, unhindered by the presence of others, he could admit it to himself. This place, presumably a place of worship, was beautiful. The columns were artistically crafted, along the walls hung effigies of monstrous figures he assumed to be some manner of primitive dieties. The stonework on the floors was obviously older than that of the Castle, but it was more beautifully done than anything in those ruins had been. The entire area was a breathtaking picture of desolate, isolated glory.

Kaze had discovered this-this temple in the middle of the wilderness days after departing from the city and leaving the group behind. He had put from his mind any and all such thoughts of the others when he saw it, though. He had followed dried streambeds until fortune had lead him to a withering Keypey tree, with one fortuitously dried Fygg remaining, which he had collected and been eating at for the duration of the trip. He was starving, to be sure, and would likely die of it if he didn't find more food soon, but the discovery of the temple had displaced all other thoughts from his mind.

There was still a carpet, Kaze observed. And though it had already rotted away, he could tell that it had once been luxurious and pleasing to the eye. He followed it for what must have been fifteen minutes to a place he supposed was the center of the Temple. A giant stone carved door hung before him, upon which was depicted some manner of demon. He forced the door open, and gasped for air, utterly surprised by what he saw within.

It was a black room. Every surface within was covered in ebony, obsidian, or onyx. The columns glittered in what little light his opening the door had let in. The air reeked of something metallic, and as he followed the smell to the center of the room, he found a basin beneath an altar. The streaks on both left no question of the sacrificial purpose of either. Beyond that, though, suspended in mid-air, floated something he could not understand.

It was a stone, glittering, and yet not. The jewel which hung in the air was clearly a crystal of some sort, or some manner of crystalline rock, but where it seemed to shine he quickly realized it did the opposite. It . . . _unshone_. It pulled light into itself and so appeared to radiate darkness. And then he saw the bats.

Five bats fell from the cieling and shrieked at him. Surprised by sound and life for the first time in days, he stumbled backward, falling on his backside as he did. The bats circled and circled, and as they shrieked, he began to understand that their horrible cries were plaintiff speech, and not the normal screams of bats, but of people.

It was an odd language at first. A series of "La Lu Li Po, Lha Lhu Pa," again and again, but even this became words he could understand with time, and what the bats said chilled him to the bone.

_"We are the Warriors of the Sky. First-forged of Cid Lufaine, Heroes of the War of the Lufaine. In ages long since passed passed we to Onrac, following the Hero, Garland, to slay Omega and the Summoners most foul._

_ "For three thousand years more we lived among the Lufaine and witnessed their fall. As the land we loved crumbled to the ground, the Elders of our State dispatched us upon one final quest. So we took newer, younger flesh, and sailed far to this savage land, where the people worshipped in fear a terrible God._

_ "Chaos, He was called, and here He sealed us, in the presence of this unnatural crystal. Can you hear the music, child of man? Can you hear it in your heart? If you do not, you, like us shall be. We, the Warriors of the Sky, bound forever to the Crystal of Darkness, the Crystal of Chaos, the Crystal of the Paradox, and of Dischord, and Silence everlasting._

_ "Unless the Son of God finds reason to sing, all will be for naught. All your foolish plans cannot stop Him you hear the music? Can you hear the music!? CAN YOU HEAR THE MUSIC? CAN YOU CAN YOU HEAR THE HEAR THE MUSIC MUSIC? CAN YOU HEAR IT IN YOUR HEART!?"_

The bats shrieked it again and again, and though Kaze covered his ears, he could not shut them out. The Warriors of the Sky wailed and weeped and moaned and begged for death and again and again and again demanded to know if he could hear the music.

"Can you hear the music?" a deep voice asked behind him, silencing the bats.

Kaze moved to rise, but a foot planted itself upon his chest, preventing him. He opened his eyes to the sight of a steel boot, resting on his sternum. It was attached to the figure of a man clad in armor not unlike the demon carved upon the door. Long, iron horns extended from his helm, and behind him, resting upon the altar was a sword as large as he himself.

"Wh-who are you?" Kaze managed to gasp.

"Me?" the iron giant asked, pulling him to his feet in one fluid motion. "I am Garland. I am the Son of God. I am the hero of Lufenia, and of Corneria." He pulled back one fist and said, "and I, Garland, will knock you down."

Before Kaze could react, the steel gauntlet had embedded itself in his face and sent him flying out of the chamber. He tried to get up, but Garland had already kneed him in the chest and then sent his elbow down onto his spine. It was too late to fight now. All he could pray for was a swift death.

But Garland was not one to oblige such a request, and instead slammed him against a pillar, cracking it to its top. Others appeared, then, beside him. A man in a red cloak, a strange creature in a top-hat, and an armless figure in a mask.

"Going to kill him already, Chaos?" asked the man in red.

"I had considered it, Chaos," answered the man in steel.

"We still need him, Chaos," said the one in the top-hat.

"I tHiNk We CoUlD sTaNd To LoSe OnE oF tHeM," said the one in the mask.

Kaze's heart stopped when he got a better look at him. "Oscha!"

"HeLlO bLaCk WiNd. HoW aRe YoU? We MiSsEd YoU."

Kaze broke free of Garland's grip and tried to get away, but stumbled as he did. The Chaoses approached him slowly as he scrambled to get to his feet. They were laughing, and Kaze realized they scared him.

He was terrified of them. The evil that emanated from them was palpable, tangible, touchable. His throat tightened, heart skipped a beat, and his strength left him. Oscha was here. He remembered him, remembered the fear he felt at the sight of him. Remembered the sound of children screaming. Oscha. OSCHA!

"Run," said the red one.

"RUN," said the one in the hat.

"RuN, rUn, RuN!" squealed Oscha.

"But first," Garland asked, lunging foreward, "scream."

And Kaze screamed. He had never been so afraid in his entire life as the four Chaoses fanned out and drew their weapons. Long and sharp, pointed and fluted, and broad. Guns, swords, knives, and fingers like daggers. And everywhere the teeth. Each one smiling in the worst way, and though he could not see it, he was certain that behind Oscha's mask and Garland's helmet they were grinning, too.

"Can you hear the music?" Garland asked.

Kaze screamed again, and turning, ran for the exit. The Chaoses were in hot pursuit, and they, unlike him, did not seem hungry or tired. They just kept chasing, laughing and asking him if he could hear it. All he could hear, though, was how afraid he was for his own life.


	13. Chapter 13 Be A Hero

**CORNERIAN WASTES, WORLD D**

**MORNING OF DAY 09, CYCLE "014"**

**BRANDT**

Monsters. So many monsters. Every which way he went, monsters. They looked like human beings, but they weren't. Whatever Aya had thought, it was apparent now that these things weren't human in the slightest. Their weapons had all mostly shattered in the countless eons they had wandered these streets, but that wasn't what made them monsters.

The Scholar had said that someone could eat the Manikins to gain sustenance. What he had failed to mention was that it was entirely possible for them to try and do the same to you. Brandt had taken the arms off one the other day, and thought that was the end of it. Then it lunged at him, and tried to bite him. The Manikins wanted nothing but to kill, and Brandt, being clearly alive, had drawn their eye. Worst of all was that there was no end to them. They just kept coming, as if they could somehow send word to others to come.

The horde was everywhere, and it had kept him from progressing in any real direction. That was the realization that had frightened him most of all. The Manikins had fenced him in. No retreating to Corneria, no advancing northward to meet Ramza, no fleeing left or right. They had him, and they would kill him. Who knew how long it had been since last they had killed? The Manikins must have yearned for it, must have longed for it as surely as he was beginning to yearn for the respite that their swords would bring him.

They looked like people, like men and women, and Brandt had originally supposed that they were meant as a cruel joke, as a symbol of the evils that men do. But he couldn't remember any such evil anymore, and he had since given up thinking on it. All he thought of now was how much longer he could hope to swing his sword. How much longer could he cast spells to ward them off? How much longer till he collapsed, and they bore down on him, like swine at the hour of feed?

He'd been running for days now. Ramza had bid him farewell and he'd tried to make for the east to find Y'shtola. Instead he'd come across a Manikin. A pale, green boy who couldn't have been much different from him in age. But those eyes. Those stony, soulless eyes, and that horrible shriek it had made when it saw him alerted Brandt to the fact that there was nothing in common between them.

The shriek called down dozens of others. Brandt was too tired to keep running. They were too many, and he was too weak to so much as raise his sword. He breathed deeply, and prepared for his end. The boy advanced, raised its hand and fell backward, its head having exploded into a horrid, gelatinous mess.

Standing behind the Manikin was a boy dressed in a black shirt with a red scarf around his neck. He turned quickly, and threw several cards into the heads of the Manikins racing toward them. Their skulls exploded when the cards impacted, and they fell to the ground.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked.

"I-I think so." Brandt stated. He wasn't sure at all that that was true. He was still weary, but now there was something more. Now he was alarmed. Sure, this boy had saved him, but he was also someone. Or rather, he was someone who wasn't a Manikin, or Cosmos, or one of them. That only left . . . "Are you one of Chaos'?"

"No, Cosmos summoned me, so I guess I'm Hers. And you?"

"Me, too."

"My name is—well, you can call me Ace."

"Ace? I'm Brandt. So, are your-."

"Memories gone? Yes. I'm the same as you."

"Not quite," Brandt said. "You showed up _after_ I did."

"Fair enough." Ace offered a hand to help Brandt up. "I'd explain that to you if I could, but I'm guessing Cosmos gave you as much instruction as She gave me."

"You don't seem surprised by my presence," Brandt said, getting up without Ace's help, "So I'm going to assume you received more than I. She didn't tell us anything about extra warriors."

"She didn't tell me anything about other warriors," Ace said. "I put that together myself. The Manikins attacked me, so they must not serve Cosmos. They were attacking you, so you must not be allied with them. You asked about Chaos, so I'm guessing you're not one of His."

It all made sense, but something about it bothered Brandt just the same. Everything about some new warrior being introduced _after_ the whole summoning struck him as odd. But he was too tired to be suspicious anymore. He needed a rest. And while Ace might be going to the trouble to gain his trust for later treachery, it struck him that he would not have gone to the trouble of saving him from the Manikins if he wanted him dead. Furthermore, he was too tired to imagine that Ace might plan a more horrid death for him, and too innocent to suspect him of saving him for a worse death.

"I need a nap," Brandt said. "You stand watch. I'm getting some sleep."

"H-hey, wait a minute!" Ace exclaimed as Brandt sat back down and began to make himself comfortable among the rocks. "That's it? You're not going to tell me what's going on here?"  
>"I don't know anything," Brandt mumbled. "Go ask one of the others."<p>

"There are others like us?"

"There were. Who knows now? The warriors of Cosmos have failed. You can die here with me if you want, or you can go die on your own. I don't care. I need a nap."

"What's wrong with you? You're just going to give up? Just like that?"

"Can't give up if I've already lost."

"You're still alive, aren't you? You haven't lost while you're still alive!"

"What is life, anyway? Who's to say if we aren't dead?"

"We aren't. I feel like I've been dead for a long time, and for the first time, I'm-."

"Not alive. You don't feel alive. Don't lie and tell me you do. Nobody feels alive here. Everything and everyone in this world died a long time ago. We're not alive. Not here."

"But we're not dead! You must feel that! That feeling that you've been dead, and aren't now!"

"How could I remember death?"

"I-I don't know! You don't remember it! You just _feel_ it."

"Leave me alone. I don't care anymore. Everyone here sucks."

"You stupid fool, get up!" Ace shouted, grabbing Brandt and physically lifting him from the ground by his collar.

"Get out of my sight," Brandt spat. "I don't want your help. I tried being a hero, and this is where it got me. Nice guys don't exist, and it was only a matter of time before I realized it."

Ace slapped him hard across the face. "Listen to yourself! Can't you hear what you're saying? Cosmos is depending on us! Everyone we ever knew or loved is depending on us!"

"Why should I trust that so-called Goddess?"

"Have you ever had reason to doubt God?"

Brandt snorted and looked away. At Ace's insistence, he responded, "No. No I haven't."

"Have you ever had a reason to doubt me?"

"I don't even know you."

"But have you ever had cause to doubt me?"

"No."

Ace slapped him again. "Then snap out of it! Get a hold of yourself, man! We've got uncountable worlds to save."

"You want me to do this whole hero thing again?"

"Don't you think you're giving up a little too soon?"

"I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Then yes, I'm asking you. Won't you be a hero with me?"

Brandt considered the question. As he did, it occurred to him that, short of fatigue, he wasn't sure why he had been so against it a moment ago. It was almost as though something else had moved upon him, had convinced him to be so. Then Brandt thought on his lost companions. Where were they? How did they fare? And then he arrived at the only possible conclusion.

"I'll do it."


	14. Chapter 14 Eat

_**IMP'S WARREN, CORNERIA, WORLD B.**_

_**EVENTIDE OF THE 9**__**th**__** DAY, CYCLE "014"**_

_**LAYLE**_

The sun was going down. They always appeared at sundown. How there was still a sun to set, Layle did not know. He had more pressing concerns, though. Abandoned by his comrades, forgotten in the city, he'd thought to stay there until they returned. The sun had set, though, and something else entirely had descended upon him. He'd been running in circles ever since.

No food. No drink. No sleep. Not for days. Just an unceasing flight from the horrors occupying this continent. You could fight them, but you could not win, he had discovered. He'd thrown his strength into trying to stop them at the beginning, and it had left him a broken and tired man. Cosmos had mentioned Chaos, but She had neglected to mention the horde He had at His beck and call.

It would not be long, soon, before they came again, their soulless eyes unblinking, their mechanical limbs unceasing in their pursuit of him. Three choices now stood before him. He could look for somewhere to hide or make a stand, and hope to weather the night. He could run, and hope that the last of his strength had not yet abandoned him. Or he could slit his own throat and have down with it all, at last finding comfort and respite from this place.

Layle discarded the third option categorically. He was no quitter. No, he was a hero, and the hero of the tale. It would not do to despair now. On the other hand, if he knew his stories, and he did, there was one sure bet he could make. Running, after all, was not very heroic.

A howl signified their coming. The sun's last light burned beneath the western mounts, and the sound of screams and footsteps signified their advance. The light was utterly gone from the world, and he could not see them, but he could hear them, and feel his skin prick at their approach.

What they were Layle knew not. He had never seen one, not perfectly. He'd seen bits and pieces the first night, but with no light in the sky, it wasn't easy to tell. Especially not when there were so many, and they moved so fast. Whatever they were, this was their end. Layle knew it with the surety that men only know in the dire watches of the night.

They were upon him at once. From all sides they came, howling their odd, mechanical howls, and striking at him with weapons he could not plainly see. They made a terrible clamor, and lashed out in the dark. He blocked and dodged, ever on the defensive. What magic he knew did little to keep them at bay. One stray blow landed on the back of his hand, it startled him more than it stung, but he dropped his blade all the same. For a second his stomach lurched, but he knew what came next. He was sure he knew the kind of story he was in, after all.

Their hands reached for him, and then he heard gunfire. One after the other let out a terrible shriek, and then they clattered to the ground. Their bodies falling like trees before the woodsman's axe. When they had fallen, something fell upon one. It made an awful tearing noise, and then began to chew. That was when Layle realized his rescuer was _eating_ his foe.

She stopped midchew, breathing heavy, to urge him, "Eat."

"What? No."

"You're tired. You must eat. You eat or you die."

"Gods, Aya is that _you?_"

"Kaze is here, too."

"What? Oh man, why are you EATING those things?"

"You heard the Scholar. Crystals are life. Food is life. You eat or you die."

Layle took a step back. He tripped over something and landed on his posterior. It didn't take long for him to realize that what he had tripped over was Kaze, eating another one of the whatevers. It must've been one of the manikins, judging from what Aya had said. After all, it wasn't likely that Fyggs had been hunting him in the dark.

"Kaze?" At first, Layle heard no reply, but Kaze had definitely stopped chewing. He could hear that. Then something muttered began to catch his ear. One phrase, repeated again and again, softly at first, then louder and louder.

"Can you hear the music? Can you hear the MUSIC? CAN YOU HEAR THE MUSIC? CAN YOU HEAR THE MUSIC!? CAN. YOU. HEAR. THE. MUSIC!?"

Layle got to his feet and broke a sword out of the hands of one of the corpses at his feet. He pointed it at his foes. His true skill lay with magic, and not with weapons, but suddenly he very much felt the need to hold one in his hand.

"I know you're not pointing that at me," Aya snarled, rising from her meat.

"Something is very wrong with you," Layle replied.

"CANYOUHEARTHEMUSICCANYOUHEARTHEMUSICCANYOUHEARTHE MUSICCANYOU."

"No," Aya said. "I am well-fed. You're starved. Something is wrong with you."

"The meat's driven you mad."

"Put down the sword and eat," Aya said, her hand reaching for her gun. "This is your last warning."

"Kaze's bloody screaming Gods only know what and you think something is wrong with ME?"

"He's fine. He's eaten. He is well-fed. You're starved."

Layle broke into a cold sweat. Something was seriously wrong with Aya. He couldn't hope to cover the distance between them before she shot him dead, and Kaze, completely unpredictable, left the situation utterly in doubt. It was pitch black and he could scarce make them out. Fear gnawed at him as Kaze gnawed at Manikin bones between shouts.

"Come with me to see Ramza," Layle said. "He'll know how to help you."  
>"Ramza would have us starve before he tells us what he knows. Oh, don't get me wrong, Layle. Ramza knows a lot, I think you and I can both agree, a lot more than he lets on. But he is content to tell us nothing and let us starve to death. Kaze showed me that."<p>

"All Kaze is showing me is what a raving lunatic sounds like."

"Kaze is well-fe-."

"Well-fed, yes, I heard you."

"Then eat."

"Not a chance. That stuff made you crazy, and I value my sanity a little more highly."

"But you _are_ hungry."

"Not that hungry, I'm not."

"Don't lie. Eat."

"You're beginning to sound like a chocobo, you know? It's all kweh and wark out of you."

"Then we've had enough of words, haven't we? You know I'll shoot you dead before you can get near me."

"The question I'm wondering is if you'd eat me after that."

"Food is life."

"A wonderful maxim. I've another for you: What goes up, must come down."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Layle threw Aya into the air, then turned and did the same to Kaze as he tried to blitz him. He didn't want them to lose him, only to put some distance between them. Aya and Kaze landed with a loud thud, then Kaze let out a terrible howl. The chase was on.

Deflecting bullets with his spells as he ran, Layle was surprised he had the strength for this ploy. After all, he'd been running from manikins in the dark for days, and bizarre and terrifying as it sounded, Aya and Kaze had eaten far more recently than he had. But what they ate had driven them mad, and now Layle's last hope was to find Ramza in this madness and implore him to help them. Aya had been right about that, too: Ramza likely did know more than he let on.

That was about the extent of his plan: run from Kaze and Aya as fast and as best as he could, back toward the Cornerian Bridge, and hope Ramza was there. He had no real reason to believe so, save for a strange feeling that that was where Ramza most definitely MUST be.

It was going to be a long night.


	15. Chapter 15 Meetings Upon the Bridge

_**THE CORNERIAN BRIDGE**_

_**DAY 10, CYCLE "014"**_

_**RAMZA BEOULVE, THE LAST GOOD MAN**_

"They'll be here," Benjamin said. "I know they will."

Ramza wasn't so sure. Looking out across the wasteland from the highpoint of the bridge, he could not truly believe that any of them would come. He had waited for days at this spot, living off of the fruit of a nearby tree. When Benjamin had showed up, his rations had been halved, and malnutrition brought with it a poignant stench of despair.

His burden was a heavy one to bear. He was one of the only ones who knew, after all, the entire scope of the game. It was almost enough to take the heart out of him, and he expected it would take the heart from all the rest of them, if they knew. The most sickening part of all was the knowledge that they had been prepared for this and that this eventuality had been addressed in their selection. The Scholar had sat there, spinning his webs, and on each one he had weighed the ability of each to withstand such a revelation.

For not the first time he looked at the palm of his hand, and the crystal embedded there. The Crystal of Absolute Virtue, a shard of the God who had, in utter loneliness, had rent himself in twain. The right to dictate for himself the future that all others would be forced to take, whether they wanted it or not. The weight that tipped the scales, so to speak.

But its power was not complete. When it had come to him, a sliver of the Crystal had remained with She who had won it by right, and its light had passed back into he who had ignited it first. With so small a fragment, its use was limited. He could not stop the conflict with what he had, but he could turn the stream whichever way he wanted at the right time.

Biding his time was Ramza's fate. Cursed like all others to the fate of the Crystals, his lot fell to patience, and his patience felt stretched of late. And why should it not? Such hunger and horror was already eating at him, how quickly had it eaten the others?

"What if they're not?" he asked. "What do we do then?"

"We go and finish this ourselves. I can't do it again, Ramza. I cannot go through another dysfunctional team and watch it crumble as I try to shore it up from every side. I just . . . I can't do that."

"But here you are, all the same." Ramza was hesitant to say more, but then added, "Why is that?"

"It hurt, Ramza." Benjamin replied. "I loved them, they were my team and my friends, and in the end, none of that mattered, least of all to them. Serah, Cuore, Arazlam and Gilgamesh were so busy with their own demons that they waltzed to the tune of greater fiends, still, and it took a heavy toll on me. We failed, and when we did, everyone was made to suffer."

"You can't mean that. This is not your fault."

"Isn't it? The Gods war, but that's no excuse. We had the means, Ramza. Arazlam had the knowledge, Serah had the strength, Gilgamesh the skill, Cuore the spells, and I the sense of justice to propel us through any conflict. We were the Light Warriors, the Heroes, and we trumped the fiends. And what did we do?

"We killed each other. Cuore killed me, and Serah killed her, and then Arazlam, Gilgamesh, and lastly herself. And rather than save Cid Lufaine, we slaughtered the one God who could care about us, and threw the worlds to the wolves. I know, Ramza, I know my crimes."

"You couldn't have escaped the machinations of the Scholar and Mio if you'd tried."

"You're wrong! You're wrong, and I don't want and don't need and don't deserve your sympathy. I had the way out, Ramza. I had multiple ways out. Cid Orlandeau, Aerith Gainsborough, all I had to do was ask or out either and everything could've changed. All plans would've been laid bare and things would've moved differently.

"But I've been so _blind._ I knew, before so many others, that the whole of Heaven was a dream. I'd been to The Mouth, and I wasn't sleeping when Alfador spoke his plan that night. I've had every chance to change fate, and I've refused to face it. I've fled and fled and fled from it while other men orchestrated it for me. Even here, I was going to run. I was going to let you handle it all, while I pretended to be the comic relief and relied on you and let you suffer the burden alone.

"But then the Scholar reared his head again, and I couldn't take it anymore. I'm so sick of all this, of myself, and of my weakness, and of the constant, unending schemes of Gods and Wizards. There's no peace, and less escape. I want to go home, Ramza, but I don't want to jump through all these hoops to get there. I can't do this anymore."

"And yet here you are," Ramza repeated. "You sell yourself too short, Benjamin. If you have failed, let this be the hour of your redemption. For the record, though, I do not consider this a failure. Things have changed, and we are closer to home, now. The Gods were foiled, and this bitter feud was stalled, however briefly. I think that-,"

He came to a halt as someone came up the causeway. Both drew their swords slowly, and neither relaxed at the sight of Y'shtola. Her time in the wilderness seemed to have brought out the cat in her; her head was held high, her posture indicative that she had a bone to pick with them.

"My my," Benjamin spat, "look who looks like she's had a gay old time of it."

"How are you, Y'shtola? Oh I'm fine, Benjamin, thank you for asking." She returned. "The Scholar was right about you, through and through.

"You've spoken with the Scholar?" Benjamin asked, almost in horror.

"I have, and I'm wise to both of you now."

"You are, are you?" Ramza asked, lowering his blade. "What did the good Scholar tell you about us?"

"Ah, I'd be a fool to play my cards so quick as that, now, wouldn't I? But I'll tell you he told me I was right: the Manikins are our foes, and they are edible."

"Have you eaten one, then?"

"I haven't needed to. He supplied me with Fyggs for the journey."

"I've heard enough," Benjamin said, raising his blade and advancing. "You're in league with him, are you?"

"And why not? The Scholar is here to help us. He's fighting for us. Why not ally with someone who can help us defeat Chaos?"

"You stupid girl! Don't you know what he is?"

"A man, same as you, save he has a brain."

"No, Y'shtola," Ramza began, "The Scholar is-"

Ramza stopped mid-sentence as Layle came running onto the bridge. Gasping for air, he cried out, "Hurry! You! Help! Them! They! Hunger!"

"I what?"

He had no time for further inquiry, as Aya and Kaze arrived, with a host of Manikins at their backs. They were beyond counting, and it was evident from the way they moved that Aya and Kaze were leading the pack, not fleeing from it. None dared step onto the bridge, though, as Ramza advanced to its middle. He drew his sword, and beckoned them come.

"Aya, Kaze! It's been too long!"

"Hello, Ramza. You look hungry," Aya and Kaze said in unison.

"That's creepy," Benjamin said.

"There's something wrong with them," Ramza said. "Look at their eyes; they've skinned over."

"No, there's something wrong with you, Ramza," they said, "You haven't eaten."

"Eaten what? I am fairly hungry, friends. What have you eaten, that it keeps you so well fed?"

"The Bread of Life, the Gift of the Gods. The flesh of Manikin."

Ramza turned to face Y'shtola. "Still trust the Scholar? He'd have had us all eat this." Y'shtola looked away, unable to meet Ramza's gaze.

"How do we fix them?" Layle asked.

"When you eat something bad, the body does something to protect you from it," Ramza said. "Since their bodies have failed, we must induce this response manually."

"In terms everyone can understand?"

"We make them puke."

"We can hear you, and we do not consent to your plan."

"And I did not ask for it," Ramza said. With blinding speed, he lunged forward, driving his armored knee into Kaze's stomach. As if commanded to do so, Kaze keeled over, vomited, and sunk quietly to the ground, clutching his stomach. Aya fired at Ramza as soon as it began, and he jumped backward, soaring a greater distance than she could have expected.

"Impressive," she said, "but you can't evade me forever."

"I don't need too," Ramza replied as a bullet bounced off of him. "You can't hope to actually hurt me. You couldn't hope to cut my hair with one of those."

"We'll see about that!"

"No," Ramza said, flying his foot into her face, "we won't." Aya stumbled backward, then fell on her behind, knocked over by the force of the blow. She drew her pistol again and Ramza cut it in twain. He thrust his blade into the bridge with the same motion, then lifted her by the front of her shirt and buried his fist into her stomach again and again until at last, she too coughed up copious amounts of blood, bile, and chunks of Manikin flesh.

"I'm impressed," called someone from behind the Manikin hoard. An explosion followed, clearing the way, and when the dust had settled, Brandt and an unusual young man were seen standing in its place.

"Brandt!" Benjamin exclaimed. "Well there's a happy sight! And your friend?"

"I am Ace," the boy replied. "Cosmos called me up a little late."

"And we're to trust this because?"

"It's okay," Brandt said, "I'll vouch for him."

"As you say then, Brandt." Ramza put in, hoping to silence any objections others might have. "It's good to see you all again; please, believe that. I had not thought to see you again. It warms my heart to have you here." He looked about him, to Brandt, his new friend, Y'shtola, Aya and Kaze, coughing on the ground, Layle, still panting from his run, and lastly to Benjamin. "The only question now remaining," he began, putting forward his hand, "is: are you all with me?"

Brandt and Ace put in first, "We're with you," Brandt said. "To the very end."

Kaze rose next, and joined them, saying, "As am I."

Aya followed, and said, "I've had a lot to learn, lately, and I'm with you."

Y'shtola's paw joined the circle. "Let us learn together, then."

They turned to face Benjamin, who yet stood apace. "It's always bright and cheery at the outset. Then we learn terrible things about each other. Proximity unveils weaknesses, and breeds cause to exploit them. I can't watch this play out a second time. And yet . . . and yet perhaps I can do this again."

"A touching speech," said someone at the far end of the bridge. A man, in a red cowl, claw glittering gold in the burned sun's light. He was flanked by a man in gold and red armor, a woman in a white cape, one in a white mage's cloak, a horned man with a bone mask, and a girl in many colors. Each of them had their weapons drawn.

"Welcome, Warriors of Cosmos! God, the Son of God, our Master Chaos, bids you welcome to His world. We have been sent to extend the greetings of God, and ensure that you are all made comfortable."

He paused a moment, then, snapping his fingers, made the Manikin horde Aya and Kaze had brought step onto the bridge. "I do hope you will enjoy your stay, short as it must be."

_**END OF ACT I**_


End file.
